#nine: WHEN WILL YOU WEAR WIGS?

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

brain: you know what's a blessed image. five loses his shit laughing exactly the same way elijah wood does

me: oh that IS a blessed image. elijah wood's not my voiceclaim for him at baseline, but i could definitely see them laughing with the same cadence and everyth--

me:

me: oh no

OH NO

anyway elijah wood's my voiceclaim for five now i guess. thank you for coming to my ted talk

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Santa, Baby

Santa!Art the Clown x F!Reader SMUT

Summary: There’s a Christmas Party at the club the reader works at. After bumping into a strange man in the streets, she spreads the word of the party.

cw: isn’t art his own warning??, choking, fingering, mentions of blood, oral f!receiving, multiple orgasms, mentions of kidnapping, biting, violence, p in v, hair pulling, scratching, blood play, overstimulation, creampie,

a/n: imma be real with yall, if you can’t handle watching the Terrifier movies don’t read fanfiction about Art bc tagging all this stuff in the warning was CRAZY lmao

~~~

It was the Saturday before Christmas.

Some people were out shopping, other’s having festive dinner with their loved ones. And then there was you. Getting dressed up in a slutty, red Santa-dress. It sat high upon your thighs, if you even attempted to bend over your matching red lacy underwear would be on full display.

Hoping the outfit would get you better tips. Maybe even a cute guy for you to play around with. Twirling Round in the mirror before leaving your house.

The weather was nice, so you opted to walk. You did not live that far away from work, sometimes the car was easier. But you could not lie that the thought of you turning heads on the street sent a thrill through you.

As you walked down the street, you bumped into a pale man wearing a Santa outfit. Knocking his black trash bag out of his grasp. White wig, red hat and jumpsuit, and big black shoes. Noticing his crooked nose and clown-like face paint. Rather peculiar for this time of year. Almost a mix of Halloween and Christmas.

His mouth formed an ‘O’ when your eyes met. Brows quickly furrowing down at you.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” you quickly apologized. Leaning down to pick up the bag for him. Your breasts peaking through the top of your tight dress. His eyes found themselves looking down your dress. Unable to deny his mind wandering to a perverted place. Not usually the type to feel this type of thing for people. Only desire he had being to kill and be covered in their blood. But something about you made a different part of him crave you.

“I like your costume,” you complimented, “There’s this Christmas Party down at the club if you’re interested.” You dug in your purse for one of the flyers. Giving it to him. Silently examining the pamphlet, his brows raised as he nodded. You both awkwardly stood on the sidewalk. Creepy smile never leaving the clown’s face. You continued to smile back at him, eyes looking around. “Silent type? How mysterious, I like it,” you tapped your fingers against his chest, “Hopefully I’ll see you there tonight, I’ve gotta get going. Bye!” You waved him off as you walked past him. His stiff body following you until he was facing the same direction. Eyes never leaving you. Peering at how your hips swayed and ass bounced in the dress.

What was wrong with him?

You headed down to the street the club was on. Waving at the bouncer, unable to stop himself from eye-fucking you in that dress. Booping him on the nose as you entered.

The club was decorated in all Christmas lights. A handful of fake trees placed along the floor. Everyone dressed up as different holiday characters. Elves, Snowmen, Reindeer, the whole nine yards. You were greeted by your happy coworkers as you took your place behind the bar. Preparing for the night of heavy drinkers ahead. Unable to get that clown out of your mind.

The Club was booming. Extremely loud Christmas remixes, people singing along and grinding together filled the scene. Strobing lights decorated the walls as the big projected screen behind the DJ showed clips of old Christmas movies without sound. It was difficult to hear your customers like this, good thing you could read lips.

There was finally a dry spell at the bar. Giving you time to stretch your neck and legs. Rolling your shoulders as you softly bobbed your head to the music. Taking a drink of water from your bottle. Almost every seat at the bar was taken. People hitting on each other, drinking away their sorrows, and some groups filled the seats. When a familiar face sat on your side of the bar. Loud garbage bag clanged against the floor. Causing you to jump out of your skin. Eyes peered over to the source.

White and Black face paint. It was the guy from the street. Your expression beamed at him. “Hey! You came by,” you reached a hand out to him in excitement. Wide smile painted across his face as he nodded at you. Still as silent as ever.

“I’m so glad you decided to come by. Still looking good in that Santa outfit I see,” you flirted. He snickered as he tucked his face into his shoulder, pretending that your words were embarrassing him. Hands coming up to wave off your compliment. Gesturing to your body, silently complimenting you.

You walked around the bar, hands tip-toeing up his arm, “Think you’re looking for a Mrs. Claus?”

The Clown tilted his head to the side. Eyes scanning your entire body, resting on your breasts with a devious smile. Looking up at you through his lashes, nodding slowly. You smiled at him.

“Can you cover me?” You called out to your coworker behind the bar. She gave a thumbs up as she poured a shot for a customer. You smiled giddily at him. His brows raising as he returned the look. He stood from his seat, towering over you. He was so tall. Long fingers wrapped around your wrist as he dragged you down a dark hallway. Garbage bag occasionally scraping the wall. He led you around as if he knew the place. Familiar with the proper hiding spots. Arousal pooled deep in your bones. Where his hand held your wrist ignited throughout your body.

He stopped in front of a dingy door to an abandoned bathroom. Opening it and allowing you in first. It was dark in the old bathroom. You never used this one, reserved for occasional hookups and doing lines for your coworkers. The mysterious clown flicked on the dimly yellow bulb. Pointing excitedly towards the old stained mirror. The words “Art Was Here” was written in some type of red. Assuming it was some lipstick.

“Is that your name?”

Art nodded happily. Jumping up and down and clapping. You leaned against the cold brick wall. Arms folded over your chest as you stared at him. Examining his tall figure. His loosely fitting Santa costume leaving most of him up to your imagination. Except for those hands. Long, strong fingers. Barely peaking out of the fingerless gloves he wore.

His expression dropped suddenly. Brows falling in a straight line over his eyes. Mouth sealed with a hint of a frown. You felt your heartbeat speed up. A small amount of fear taking over at his sudden mood change. His head tilted slightly, eyes tracing your body. Your eyes darted around the dark room unsure of what his next move was. Was he going to fuck you? Kill you? Maybe nothing at all.

Before you could open your mouth he lunged at you. Thick fingers wrapped around your throat. Strong grasp around your windpipe. Pulling every bit of air out of you. Your eyes widened at him. A smirk of mischief painting the corner of his mouth. Leaning forward as if he was going to kiss you, turning into a long stripe licked up your face. Shoulders bounced with silent laughter. Fingers tightening around your jugular. You could feel yourself struggling to breathe. Vision growing slightly blurry with each passing minute. Art’s fingers traced down your body, squeezing your breasts along the way. Hooked up under your dress. Raising his eyebrows in surprise when he felt your lacy panties soaking wet. Wagging his finger at you, partially shaming you for your arousal.

You gasped for air that you did not receive. Feeling woozy. Art’s finger going back down to your aching core, circling your clit with two fingers. A broken moan escaped your throat. Dark eyes stared at your face. Watching how it contorted when he would hit the spot you liked. Feeling his cock growing with the pathetic noises you made.

Just as you felt yourself about to faint, Art removed his hand from your neck. Your own hand replaced his as you began heaving for air. Sliding slightly down the wall, firmer against his fingers. He puckered his lip out mocking the tears that stained the corners of your eyes. Your moans were far louder now. Being able to fully express yourself and the harder feeling of his fingers. His dark eyes watched how your chest bounced with each moan you let out.

Art slipped his middle finger under your panties, sliding it into your soaked folds. Causing your body to buckle forward against him. Grabbing his shoulder for support as your legs grew shaky and weak. Emotionless eyes met yours. Face still and unmoving as you pleaded up at him with your doe eyes. Curling his finger while the others continue circling your clit. His name fell from you in a cry as you felt that familiar tightening in your lower abdomen.

He knew his way around the human body, that was for sure. Knowing all the right places to inflict pain or pleasure. Usually he enjoyed seeing the way people would desperately run from him, crying out in pain when he would strike them down. Loving the way blood and guts warmed up his hands. But here he was, keeping you in tact while still feeling your insides. Adoring the way your sensitive insides clamped around his finger. How your body begged for him to please it. Walls pulling him deeper into you. Still getting that same pleasure as he watched you cry out and cling to him. The way tears stained under your eyes and fingers dug into his skin pooling inside him. Feeling his own arousal begin growing in his oversized pants.

You began thrusting up and down on his fingers. Widening his eyes as he watched you chase your high with his fingers. Opting to slide another into you, curling and scraping against your insides. Grazing that spongey spot that sent electricity through you. Curiosity painted his expression now. With one final curl of fingers, you came undone around him. Walls fluttering and sucking in his fingers. Arousal leaking down his digits as he continued pumping into you. Your entire body began shaking as you dug your fingers into his shoulders, having to hold them both to stabilize yourself. Your face curled into the crook of his neck. Skin smelling of sweat and iron.

Art pushed you against the wall. Standing stiffly in front of you as you panted. Face red with post orgasm glow. Feeling your walls clamp around nothing now. Craving something more. A closed mouth smile morphed into a wicked grin, baring his stained teeth. Examining his fingers that had been inside you. Pulling them apart while they were still connected by your arousal, a slimey rope connecting them. Taking his fingers into his mouth, sucking the taste of you off them. Eyes rolling into the back of his head. Sucking them off with a pop.

Unable to deny that that did something for you. Your chest was tight as you looked his body up and down. Landing on the faint tent pitched in his pants.

The tall clown fell to his knees in front of you. Crawling over and throwing the front of your dress up. Staring at your ruined panties. Soaked lace sticking to your lips. His hand rubbed up your leg, with a tug of brute force ripping your panties off in one go. Cold air hitting your heated mound. He suddenly licked up into your pussy. Tongue dancing down the slit, lapping at the remainder of you. He took one of your legs and threw it over his shoulder, giving him better access to you.

Art ate you out like it was going to be his last meal. Sloppily, his tongue spread your folds while his hands held tightly into your thighs. His crooked nose bumping against your throbbing clit. Still overstimulated from your first orgasm. Knowing it would not take long for him to take you there again at this rate.

“Art, I’m going to cum again,” your voice was shaken.

He nodded aggressively, refusing to remove from your opening. He had found a new favorite taste. Unable to get enough of you. If he could, he would bottle your taste up and take it home with him. Or maybe even take you away with him. Lock you up in his warehouse so he could taste you whenever he wanted. He knew you would taste especially good when your period would come around. His two favorite flavors combined.

You began grinding down onto his face. Pushing his nose against your clit over and over. Chasing your secondary high, unsure how many more he would have you endure. Not really caring. If they all felt this good you would let him have you however he wanted. Unwinding on his face. Art pressed his tongue between your folds wanting to feel them contort against his it. You slid down the wall loosing yourself. Art held you up like it was no problem. A strange strength coming from him. Your eyes squinted shut momentarily trying to catch your breath.

Art continued licking until you subsided. Standing, his face covered in your juices. Oddly none of his makeup smudged. You had to find out where he bought his foundation. Hooded eyes gazed down at you. You looked so pathetic sliding into the floor in front of him. Tits rising as you panted. He pictured how your lungs looked expanding in your chest. Desire to rip you open filling his thoughts. Fading when he felt his cock throbbing.

Long digits reached out to help you to your feet. Releasing you and letting you tumble back, head hitting the cold brick. You winced when it started to ache. Silently he laughed and pointed at you. Miming you hitting your head. You scowled up at him. He definitely enjoyed your pain. Something you were too overstimulated to care about. He rolled his eyes at you when you did not laugh along with him, reaching his hand out again. Swirling his finger in a circle gesturing for you to try again.

Art pulled you flush against his chest. Stronger than anyone else you had ever been in contact with. Acting as if you weighed nothing. You fluttered your lashes up at him. Mouth hung open as you continued taking deep breaths in. Abruptly he turned you around, forcing you against the sink. Staring at him through the mirror. Watching how his hands massaged and stroked your torso in the reflection. His nose traveled from your shoulder up to your neck. Tongue coming out to lick at your throat. Pulling skin between his teeth as he sucked a deep purple bruise there. You moaned for him, loving the attention he gave to your skin. His hands gripped your chest, pulling your breasts out of your top. Cold fingertips pinched at your hardening bulbs. His eyes fixated on your chest in the mirror. Tongue traveling further up your neck until it ended behind your ear.

He was entranced by your body. Not ever taking the time to see how things changed when someone was sexually aroused. Being all too familiar with how the body acted with pure terror. Your fastening heart rate thumped against his hands. Feeling your pulse against his lips had his desires in overdrive. He could have devoured you right there. Smeared your blood all over the walls of this shit-hole bathroom. Fucked your bloodied mouth while you fought within an inch of your life to survive.

But that would not satisfy him.

Sure, your flesh ripped between his teeth would be nice. But hearing all the pathetic cries and moans you made for him was even better. The way you would whine his name was like music to his ears.

Art reached down, freeing his length from the confides of his red pants. He was swollen and leaking pre-cum. Pushing your back forward forcing you to bend over the sink. Holding yourself up with your hands as you held eye contact in the mirror. He kicked your legs apart further, making sure he could get into you. Grabbing his cock by the base and swirling it around your slick. Coating himself with you, testing the waters of how far he was willing to go. You were so warm and welcoming. He could always leave you out to dry. Just play around and never fuck you. But he needed his own release. And the way you whined his name when he dipped a little deeper his mind was made up.

Art slammed himself into you. Hands gripping your skirt upon your lower back. Watching the way your ass bounced against his cock. Wickedly grinning at the sight of him penetrating you. Tongue coming out to glaze his rotten teeth. Sound of your skin smacking mixed with your screaming moans was like music to his ears. He was relentless. Length hitting deep inside you. One of his hands tangled in your hair, arching your neck back to force you to watch in the mirror.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you called to him like a prayer each time he would sheath inside you. His long shaft stretched your entrance perfectly. You scrunched your face up and rolled your eyes back as he continued pounding into you. Mouth forming an ‘O’. Your insides spasmed around his cock as it filled you up. Art’s brows twitched with pleasure. His toothy grin was unwieldy.

His other hand gripped your ass. Nails breaking the skin as he clawed at your soft flesh. Loving how your crimson red painted your cheek. Collecting the blood on his finger tips and pressing them against your aching nub once again. Circling the sensitivity. Breath hitched in your throat as he leaned further into his grasp on your hair. Closing your eyes and screaming loudly for him. Feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly.

Art’s pace was brutal. Snapping his hips up into you. With each circle of fingers and flick of hips, you were seeing stars. Almost too drunk on cock to form sentences. Never imagining when you got dressed today your night would go like this. Lost in ecstasy of pleasure. Coil winding tighter and tighter in your stomach.

Fingers taking you to a place of pure hormonal bliss. Insides quaking and pulling him deeper. Art’s mouth shaped into an ‘O’ realizing you were cumming around his cock. Nodding with satisfaction as his dark eyes pierced into yours. Watching how drool fell out of your mouth and sweat rolled down your body.

Art pulled his fingers up, seeing the crimson red was now a softer pink. Shoving the combination of you into his mouth. Licking between his fingers like something from a porno. His shoulders relaxed as he continued fucking into you. Your entire body was shaking. Legs wobbled like they would give out on you any second.

His wet fingers rubbed at your chest. Tracing up and curling between your lips. Forcing their way into your mouth. Taking them like he wanted. He released his grip on your hair, planting the hand against your hip instead. Pinning you with his hips. Clearing chasing his own high now. Continuing to watch as he pumped his fingers into your mouth. Loving the sound of you gagging and slobbering. Feeling himself twitch inside you. His breathing picking up as he focused where he punctured you.

Watching how perfectly you sucked him in. Wanting to cum all inside you. Wanted you so filled with him you could barely walk. Knowing it would make you crave him forever. Addicted to the feeling of his seed inside you.

Hips pressed flush against yours. Shooting his white hot inside you. Coating your walls with his cum. Holding still so he could feel you milk him. He rolled his neck and leaned his head back, never having felt something this good. His chest pounded as he begged for air. Deep breaths filling his desperate lungs.

You slumped against the sink. Quivering arms and legs fighting to hold you up. Resting your head on your arms. Your cunt having been worked to its limit.

Art stood up straighter behind you. Flattening his suit down with his hands. Smiling at you in the mirror as he tucked his member back away. Waving his fingers at you.

You were unsure who this man was, but you never wanted to be apart from him.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! This is only my second time writing for Art, but I sure do love writing him. Expressing his mannerisms is so fun. If you have any requests for him, please send them my way! I look forward to future Fics! //

{tags}

@l0sercat ~ @tedi28 ~ @hyperfixated-clown ~ @papispam ~ @melaninatedhorrorqueen ~ @lcvsanaa ~ @dilfismz ~ @knoepfl ~ @tuttifuckinfruttifriday ~ @spookysquids

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-nine of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“The mahjong tiles are new,” Cissie observes, watching Tim just a shade too sharply. He internally hopes the others get here soon. He and Cissie arrived about the same time, and when she texted Bart to remind him they were all meeting up he showed up five seconds later, and Suzie was excited to see them but almost immediately ran off to get something. And Cassie and Kon had both said they’d be late–Cassie’s mom made her stay home for dinner, and Kon had just said something about something called “the Evil Factory” and a mission report he had to finish and then hung up without elaborating, which had totally not made Tim quietly insane or anything. 

The Evil Factory. What. What even is that? 

Tim needs to look into some things, clearly. 

“I’ve learned not to ask,” Tim says, and the look Cissie is giving him turns very pointed. 

“But you’re asking me about school?” she says. 

“Yes,” Tim says, because it’s not like she’s not perfectly aware he just did that, but also he doesn’t actually have to explain himself, so he just stops there. 

Cissie stares blankly at him. Tim keeps a neutral but approachable expression on his face. Filling an awkward silence is the first mistake any witness–or suspect–makes. 

She narrows her eyes, just barely, then opens her mouth to speak and–

“CISSIE,” Cassie wails from down the hall, and a second later she’s bolting into the room at full-speed and throwing herself at Cissie. Tim reflexively grabs for his bo and Cissie grabs for her–uh, bow–and Cassie makes an absolutely agonized noise and buries her face in Cissie’s lap. “I quit. I quit the team. I’m gonna ask Wonder Woman if I can move to Themyscira and I am never coming back.” 

. . . alright then, Tim thinks, just barely raising his eyebrows behind his mask. Maybe not a supervillain attack, then. 

“I’d really prefer it if you didn’t, actually,” Cissie says. “So like is this about your mom or–?” 

“Kon’s wearing clothes,” Cassie cuts her off despairingly, voice muffled in her folded arms and Cissie’s lap. 

“. . . I mean, I’d hope so?” Cissie says, patting the top of Cassie’s wig with a bewildered.expression as she sets her bow back down on the table. Tim–well, he might not hope that Kon was–never mind. But that seems like a pretty weird answer to that question either way. 

“You don’t understand,” Cassie groans. “I ran into him outside–he’s texting somebody or something, I don’t know, he said he was gonna be a minute–and he said ‘hi’ and he was wearing clothes and I tripped! I tripped in mid-air! I tripped in mid-air and he tried to help me up and I think I blacked out or something and then he laughed and he’s wearing clothes, Cissie!” 

Tim feels like maybe this is in some way “girl talk” and he shouldn’t necessarily be here, but also: what the hell is Cassie talking about? 

He also wonders who Kon’s texting and has the vaguely-annoyed thought that Cadmus might be bothering him or something. 

The subtle alert that means someone just texted Tim Drake’s phone goes off on his communicator and he makes a mental note to check it as soon as he can get a moment–it might be Dana or Mrs. Mac, or maybe one of the guys at school needs something, or . . . well, it could be his dad, technically, but statistically that’s not very likely, so– 

. . . why does he feel like he’s missing something right now, he thinks to himself, repressing a frown. What would he be missing? 

“Question: is this response proportional, or is this a ‘Code Superboy’ situation?” Cissie says. Cassie just groans all the more despairingly into her arms, not lifting her head at all. 

“This is a code black Superboy situation,” she says, and Cissie winces and pats her head again. Assuming their definition of “code black” aligns with Tim’s, that means “panic reaction; breakdown of mental/physical responses and capabilities”. So . . . yeah, that seems like a weird answer too. Just because Kon’s . . . what, outside and doing whatever he’s doing on his phone? While . . . wearing clothes? 

Tim really does not understand this conversation, yeah. 

Definitely a girl thing, he decides.

[oikasugayama]

You can't escape from chuuya 😜 the same as with dazai with the reader with a short skirt nsfw I wanted the most chuuye😠

fiiiiine, fine. Have Chuuya smut that's twice as long as the Dazai one ;)

MDNI, NSFW, fem!reader in a short skirt, 5k of filthy dirty nasty smutttt, name calling, brat taming, spanking, daddy (only once), fingering, cum eating, blow job, all sorts of shit ok. MDNI MDNI MDNI

You’re always professionally dressed at work. Members of the Port Mafia are paid handsomely, so you can all afford to dress to the nines, even for a simple day in the office or a dangerous tryst out in enemy territory. Like many of your coworkers, you prefer a polished, businessy look when conducting Port Mafia business. You have a closet full of perfectly tailored pantsuits, mostly in black though you do keep a few fun colors should you get the chance to wear them. 

On your days off, however, you’re more or less unrecognizable to your coworkers thanks to the difference in your business style and your personal style. You’re not just fond of bright and pastel colors, you’re obsessed with them. The girlier, prettier, and gaudier a piece of clothing is, the more you love it. You’re inspired by Harajuku, and pastel goth styles, as well as some frilly vintage vibes now and again. You even have a small collection of colorful wigs you like to wear out sometimes when an outfit calls for just the right one. 

One of your favorite outfits includes a black tube top, a cropped pastel pink cardigan that hangs off one shoulder, a black and pink plaid mini skirt over some fashionably ripped fishnet tights and a chunky pair of black platform boots. You like to accessorize of course, and typically go for a pastel pink dog collar choker with a heart pendant, chains hanging across your waist and down one side of your skirt, dangly earrings, and several rings. Depending on your mood, your makeup is either very sharp and black, or very soft and pink, and if you choose to wear a wig, its color is the opposite of the makeup you chose.

On the day you accidentally run into several of your coworkers in a bar, you’re in a pink wig with black eyeliner so sharp it could cut a man. 

You’re not surprised that they don’t recognize you. At work you have very plain, naturally colored hair, typically smoothed back into a bun, much like Higuchi and Gin do. In a plain black suit, it’s hard to show off your style. Besides, you wouldn’t want any of your fun clothes getting ruined in the line of duty. And it’s not like, on the rare occasion you hang out with your coworkers, that you’ve had time to go home and change. Typically if you go anywhere with them that isn’t for work, it’s just to lunch in the middle of the day, or to a bar at the end of a shift. They’ve never known you to look anything except professional.

This leads you to want to have a little fun with them all, to see how close you can get and what you can start saying before one of them catches on that it’s you.

You walk past the group a few times on the way to the bar or to the table you’re perched at. They don’t say anything about you at first, and they’re not talking about anything important from what you hear. On your third trip past, however, you do catch one of them mentioning you, and you use your ability-- which allows you to focus your hearing on anything you so choose within a certain radius-- to eavesdrop from across the loud room.

“--same chick has walked by like 5 times already,” Tachihara says.

“Are you sure?” Gin asks.

“Why does it matter? We’re in public,” Higuchi says. “People are going to walk by.”

“I know it’s definitely her because, I mean, look at her. Of course I noticed her.”

You pretend like you don’t notice when several curious heads turn your way.

“God, she’s hot,” Chuuya says, whistling under his breath. “Fucking Christ, those thighs.”

“Hey, I saw her first,” Tachihara says, while the others roll their eyes and tell the two to quiet down.

“I’d offer to share, but if I get a piece of that ass, it’s fucking mine.”

“Jesus Christ, Chuuya, you’ve had too much to drink already.”

“We’ve been here 20 minutes, I’ve barely had one glass!” he says defensively.

“Why don’t you ask her to dance if you’re so interested?” Akutagawa asks, disinterested but amused at the notion of Chuuya making a fool of himself.

“Nah,” he says, waving his hand at his group. “A hot piece of ass like that you’ve gotta chase a little. I’ve gotta buy her a drink, maybe, then ask her to dance later, then lay on the charm.”

“You’re a real ladies man, Chuuya,” Tachihara says sarcastically.

The conversation gradually turns to something else. You let it drift away since your focus isn’t exactly on them anymore, it’s suddenly on the pulsing desire burning in your crotch. “Holy shit,” you think. “Chuuya wants to fuck me so bad he’s making stupid ass plans for it.” Honestly, he could hit it any day of the week if he’d just ask, but he’s never seemed too interested in you at work. “This is what does it for him, I guess,” you think, downing the rest of your drink. You then decide to grab his attention again by stretching a little, arching your back and raising your arms over your head to make your cropped cardigan and your tube top expose a bit of your belly. It’s not a lot, but for someone already desperate to see more of you, it works.

“Fucking hell,” Chuuya mutters under his breath, eyes on you. You make eye contact with him and wink, and when he smirks instead of looking away, you run your hand up your thigh, pulling your short skirt up even higher. His eyebrows raise, giving you a look like “oh yeah?” and you smile. 

“His move,” you think, using your other hand to twirl your empty glass around a little bit. Chuuya excuses himself from the group and goes to the bar quickly.

You’ve got him hook, line, and sinker.

It’s then that the worst thing happens. Higuchi’s phone rings, then Gin’s, and Tachihara’s, and Akutagawa’s, and Chuuya’s, and yours. It’s an emergency alert from the PM. You’re all being called in, and you need to be there fast. You’re only a couple of blocks from the office. All of your coworkers will be there in less than 10 minutes. You don’t have time to go home and change. You have to go right now.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hiss under your breath, getting up and rushing for the door before the others do. Maybe if you get out ahead of them they won’t notice you--

“God dammit,” Chuuya groans. “I was just about to get her a fuckin’ drink.”

“She’s running out, too,” Higuchi points out.

“It’s weird that she’s going in the same direction as us, right?” Tachihara asks, unsure.

“There are a lot of other things out this way, dumbass,” Chuuya says.

Then you take a left, and the group takes a left. They get closer, and you try to walk faster.

Then you take a right, and they take a right. Then you approach the PM headquarter building.

“What the fuck?” Chuuya asks, rushing forward to try to stop you at the door, but you rush inside as soon as the door opens a crack.

“Hey!” Tachihara calls, rushing in after you. You hit the button to call an elevator, but realize the only available one is several floors away. You’re cornered. The jig is up.

Fuck.

“Heeeey,” you say, slowly turning around to greet the group as they gather. “Any of you know what the emergency is? I’m wondering if it’s about the Detective Agency’s involvement in our failed gun import. I was just telling Akutagawa-san yesterday that I had a feeling they’d end up losing the guns to some other organization stealing them before the Detectives could decide whether to turn us in over it.”

“Oh my god,” Higuchi gasps.

“It’s [Y/N],” Gin says.

“What?!” Chuuya and Tachihara both say, and Akutagawa is the only one to stay focused.

“It likely is exactly that,” he says. “Your foresight is spot on as usual.”

“What’s with this outfit?!” Higuchi asks, feeling your cardigan and grabbing the hem of your skirt. “It’s so short! Why are you dressed like this? You were at the same bar as us!”

“This is how I dress on my days off,” you answer honestly, shrugging. The elevator doors finally open and you all start to file in. “And yes, I’m well aware we were at the same bar,” you say, glancing at Chuuya as he shuffles past you. His cheeks blaze and his eyes lock onto the ground, refusing to meet your gaze.

So that’s how it is.

The emergency meeting goes on for two tense hours. It’s exactly what you and Akutagawa thought it would be about, and your group, as well as other Mafia and specifically Black Lizard leaders and members discuss action plans, potential repercussions, and viable reconnaissance missions. When Mori finally announces that you all deserve a break and that you’re meet again in an hour, you’re the first to get up and leave the room, feeling embarrassed to be in a work situation in your fun outfit.

Several footsteps follow you into the hallway, but they all patter off in different directions after a turn here, a turn there.

Only one set of steps follows you into the stairwell. It’s quiet, with very light steps, but you know it’s there thanks to your impeccable hearing.

The same footsteps follow you down two floors, three, four, five…

You feel like you’re being chased, but you think you know exactly who it is, and so the chase is more exciting than it is scary.

You finally get to the floor that your office is on and leave the stairwell. You walk quickly to your office, go in but leave the door cracked, and to test your theory that you’re being followed, you “accidentally” drop your phone after walking a few feet inside. You slowly bend over, letting your short skirt rise up over the curve of your ass, completely exposing your fishnet-covered ass and black thong to anyone who may be standing at the door. You grab your phone slowly, give a cheeky shake of your butt, then stand back up.

Your office door clicks closed behind you, and the lock engages loudly.

“That show for me?” Chuuya asks. You turn to find him leaning against your door. A quick glance down shows you that he’s already at least half-hard in his pants.

“Who else?” you ask softly, leaning against the edge of the desk. It’s cold on your mostly bare ass, but you act cool, crossing one ankle over the other. Your legs look long and sexy stretched out in front of you, and you can tell that Chuuya thinks so too because he can’t stop looking at them.

“It’s a shame we were called away,” you say to break the tension. “I was looking forward to that drink.”

“Were you?” he asks, slowly walking toward you. His hands are deep in his pockets like usual, always acting calm and cool. The look in his eye is different than normal, though. It’s hungry. “Nice to know.”

“You know, you’re not as forward as I thought you’d be,” you admit, leaning back on your hands. You’re on full display for him now. “I half expected you to be all over me as soon as you closed that door.”

“Tell me to leave,” he says, finally standing toe to toe with you. “Tell me to get the fuck out otherwise I will be all over you.”

“Why would I tell you to get the fuck out when I could tell you to come the fuck on already?”

Chuuya makes a noise between a moan and a growl and leaps forward, standing so both of his legs are over yours. He grabs your face with both of his hands and pulls you in for a hot, hard kiss. It’s all tongue and nipping at each other’s lips and hot panting into each other’s mouths.

Your hands shamelessly roam his body once you’ve sat up to meet him. You push his jackets back off of his shoulders so it falls onto the ground. You feel his muscular back and shoulders and arms. You slide your hands lower, feeling his sides and hips. You start messing with his belt by the time he even realizes he can touch you back.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he pants, yanking at your cardigan so you take it off. “Honestly good that you don’t fucking dress like this at work,” he says, yanking your tube top down too so your breasts are exposed. “I’d be fucking you every time I fucking see you.” He gropes your tits, squeezing them and massaging them in his hands. He tweaks your perked nipples, rolling them between his fingers, making them hard and sensitive. 

“Chuuya,” you whine, “why don’t you suck on them if you like them so much?” He looks up at you and smirks, temporarily grabbing you by the hips to push you further back on your desk so you can lay down comfortably. Once you’re flat he climbs on top, knees on either side of your hips, and leans down to your chest. He licks wet stripes across your tit, teasing your nipple with his tongue. He kisses open-mouthed around your boob, refusing to give you what you really want until you finally whine and shift under him, then he sucks your nipple into his mouth and keeps steady pressure on it for several seconds until finally releasing it with a wet smacking sound. He gives the other breast a similar treatment, teasing and sucking and licking. You reach a hand up into his hair, gently moaning his name while you card your fingers through.

He starts grinding his hard-on against your lower belly, just above your crotch given the way that he’s kneeled over you. You whimper and push your hips up, trying to meet him as he grinds. He’s thoroughly attached to your breasts, playing with one nipple while sucking on the other, trading, kissing, sucking hickies onto them. He works a stream of moans and pants and whines from you, getting you to moan his name several times, which makes him grind down onto you harder.

Finally, his hand leaves your chest and trails down your body, his slightly calloused fingers feeling rough on your soft skin. Chuuya flips your short skirt up, wasting no time in cupping your still-clothed cunt and stroking his fingers over it.

“God damn, you’re wet already,” he says, shifting so his face is against your neck.

“You’re fucking hot,” you admit, tugging on his hair. He bites not-so-gently, leaving an instant red and purple hickey on a very obvious spot. His fingers slowly spread, coming together again almost squeezing your pussy lips together. He does it again after you moan in his ear, adding more pressure to tease you with, and again, but this time his fingers dip under your panties and bunch the fabric up together. He pulls it up, several inches higher than your body, making the fabric squeeze in between your lips, leaving it pressing against your clit.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, chuckling when you grind up against his hand and your own panties, seeking stimulation. “That why you’re letting me touch your cunt? ‘Cause you think I’m hot?”

“Yeah,” you whine, still grinding upward. It’s working, your movements are giving you little shocks of pleasure as the damp fabric drags across your clit and also teases your pussy somewhat. “I’d let you fuck me too.” Your voice is breathy and unsteady, and Chuuya can tell just from the sound of it that you’re getting really worked up.

“I don’t know, doll,” he says, hovering over you by one hand pressed against the desk beside your head. “I kind of like the view watching you fuck yourself on my hand.”

“It’s not really ‘on your hand’ without your fingers in me.” You could swear that his eyes light up.

“What was that?” He teases you again, drifting his fingers over the extremely sensitive skin of your pussy. “Did you say something--” he dips a finger past your lips just enough to hook around your panties and pull them back, pushing them to the side-- “about my fingers?”

“Fucking tease,” you huff, reaching down to grab his hand, but he becomes an immovable force when you try to push his hand further down. “Oh and that stupid fucking ability of yours.” He laughs at that and tsks at you.

“You’ve got a dirty fuckin’ mouth,” he says. “Maybe you need something good in there to clean it out.” He gets off the desk and unbuckles his belt, unzips his pants, and kicks them to the floor. You sit up to see him in just his black underwear and white t-shirt, palming himself through the fabric. “C’mere and suck this dick.”

You obey, getting onto the ground with shaky thighs. He’d gotten you more worked up than you realized, and knowing yourself, sucking his dick is not going to calm you down, it’s going to get you closer to the edge.

You pull his boxers down and he steps out of them. His cock is thick and longer than your fist when you close it around his shaft. You give him a few pumps, spreading some pre-cum down his length, before leaning forward with an open mouth to take him in greedily. You start bobbing your head immediately, trying to take as much of him as possible. He stretches your mouth more than anyone else ever has, and you have a feeling your jaw is gonna get sore if you do this for too long.

Chuuya grabs fistfulls of your hair and uses it to guide you back and forth, setting a quicker pace than you already were. He works up to fucking your mouth, using your head like a sex toy. His tip bounces off the back of your throat multiple times, and you have to focus really hard on not gagging. You get messy, letting spit and drool fall out of the corners of your mouth. Tears also spring up in your eyes from him fucking your throat, but you don’t even try to stop them from falling. Your eyeliner is waterproof, but your mascara isn’t, so some black streaks may fall down your cheeks, but you don’t care. You honestly kind of want to see the fucked out look on your face when this is all over.

“You’re too good at this,” Chuuya moans. “Fucking cockslut, aren’t you? Gonna be my slut now, huh? Gonna let me fuck your throat some more, right? Whenever I want?”

You hum around him but can’t exactly nod given his cock in your mouth. He gets it though, and he also moans when you hum as the vibrations go straight into his sensitive tip when it touches the back of your mouth.

“Gonna cum in your mouth,” he grunts, “gonna make you eat it all.”

You try to shake your head, pushing back on his thighs, whining.

“No?” he asks, slowing down and stopping. “Why not, doll?” He lets you back up, finally letting go of your hair.

“That’s a waste,” you croak out, then clear your throat and try to make the fucked-out sound go away. “If you don’t bend me over my desk and fuck me until I scream I’m never fucking touching you again.”

“Oh, fuck yeah!” he says excitedly, reaching down for your arms. He picks you up effortlessly thanks to his ability, and for some reason that really does it for you. You moan just from that touch, feeling your pussy throb. Then he turns you around, pushes you down onto your desk, and smacks your ass hard. You yelp and then moan as he rubs the sting out.

“Where do you want me to cum? On your back?”

“In my cunt, dumbass.”

“Geez, you’re a fucking bitch, you know that?” he hisses, squeezing one hand around the base of his cock while the other swings and spanks you again. “And it’s so fucking hot.” He spanks you again. He refuses to tell you he felt his orgasm building from you telling him to cum inside, though his brain is being overrun by that thought now.

He flips your skirt up and rubs his hands on your ass, squeezing your cheeks and gently smacking them to make them jiggle.

“Are you having fun?” you ask him, earning another hard spank, which you moan loudly in response to, a fun smirk on your face. “I kinda like that,” you coo, wiggling your hips back toward him. “Spank me again, Chuuya-san. I’ve been very, very bad.” 

He spanks you hard and you yelp, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. “Oh, fuck,” you moan softly, torn between pleasure and pain. “You’re an asshole.” He spanks you again on the other cheek. “Will you fuck me already, asshole?”

“I would if you’d stop being a bitch.”

“Maybe you’ve gotta fuck the bitch out of me,” you say, trying to look at him over your shoulder. “You’ll never know until you try.”

“Amen,” he says flippantly, pulling your panties to the side again to make sure they’re still out of his way. He rubs his fingers over your wet pussy, dipping between the folds but never into your vagina. He spreads your wetness all over your folds, as if it wasn’t there already, but then he huffs and you hear a slight ripping.

“What was that?” you ask, turning to him.

“Stupid fucking lines are in my way.”

“Lines? My fishnets? You did not just rip my tights, you fucking douche.”

“So what if I did?” he asks, stroking himself with your wet.

“Are you serious? You fucking a-- ohhh, fuck!” You try to insult him again but get cut off by his thick cock skewering you in one swift movement. You’re so wet and ready that he slides straight in, your walls stretching to fit around his girth.

“Fuuuuuck,” he moans, throwing his head back as he bottoms out. “Your bitch pussy is the best shit I’ve ever felt, I swear to god,” he says, grabbing both sides of your hips as he withdraws and then snaps his hips forward again. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Oh, shit, Chuuyaaa,” you whine, voice going high and strained. “You’re so big, what the fuck? What the-- fuuuck,” you moan as he sets a pace, hips snapping forward every second, filling the room with wet fucking sounds and the smack of his heavy balls against your thighs.

“I’ve gotta fuckin’ see you,” he says after only a minute, backing out of you. You grunt and groan, glaring at him over your shoulder until he once again grabs you with that ability of his and moves you around like you weigh nothing. He has you on your side, one leg hanging off the desk, the other hooked over his shoulder, and then he teases your pussy with the head of his cock, dragging it back and forth, up and down your lips, pushing in only near your clit, not near your hole.

“Chuuya, please,” you sigh, reaching down toward where your bodies meet, but he grabs your hand and pins it to the desk. “Please fuck me, don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?” he asks cheekily, moving his hips as if thrusting, only letting his cock rub between your pussy lips.

“Don’t tease me,” you pant, trying to squirm your hips. “Put your cock back in me, now.”

“Now?” he asks, playing dumb.

“Now,” you insist. He rubs his tip against your clit.

“What about now?”

“Stop teasing me!”

“You know, that’s no way to ask for a favor,” he says. “Maybe I’ll just walk away. Then what would you do? Fuck yourself on your fingers?”

“I’ll find Akutagwa,” you huff, trying to loosen your hand from his grasp. He barks out a laugh, whole body shaking for a moment.

“Akutagawa?! He wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy like this, babe,” he smirks, finally moving his tip back toward your hole. “You really don’t think he could fuck you like I can, right?”

“What if I do?” You try to keep sounding tough, but the brat is being teased out of you, and you really, really want to be fucked dumb on his cock right now. “Maybe-- ahhh--” Chuuya enters you slowly, smirking down at you and the way your eyes roll back before fluttering closed. 

“Maybe what?” Chuuya asks, bottoming out.

“Maybe-- Akutagawa--” you stutter as Chuuya pulls back and snaps his hips forward again, spearing your g-spot as if he was locked on target.

“Akutagawa?” he asks, trying to lead you on as he slowly builds his pace. You try to babble something out, but as he starts properly fucking you, leaning over you and holding your leg up so he can press you into the desk, you just can’t think of anything except for Chuuya.

“Chuuya-- Chuuya-- Oh, fuck, right there-- Ohh, Chuuya!”

The sound alone is enough to make someone blush, your wet pussy gushing around him every time he goes balls deep, his body pressing against yours, getting wet and precum and sweat all over each other's crotches. You both get lost in it, moaning and swearing and giving stupid empath threats to each other.

“You better make me cum,” you say to him, and he responds “You better stop being such a bitch when I make this pussy squirt.”

He starts palming your tits again when he gets close, panting and fucking you as quickly as he can.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. You sure I can bust inside?” he manages to ask through his panting.

“Yes,” you moan, “oh fuck yeah. Cum in this pussy, daddy.”

“Daddy?!” he asks, and that’s what does it. You caught him so off guard that his whole body jerks and he hunches over you, cumming a big, hot load into your cunt. His face is burning red, and some sweat drips down his forehead. His eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth dropped open, a tiny bit of drool about to sneak out the corner of his mouth. “Fucking bitch,” he says, but it’s so high pitched and tense that it makes you laugh. Your pussy involuntarily contracts when you laugh, and your whole body slightly jiggles under him, and it makes him yelp and moan again, long and drawn out. “God damn,” he whines, pulling back as if he’s going to back out now.

“Hey, hey, hey,” you say, trying to stop him by the leg that’s thrown over his shoulder. “You didn’t make me cum yet. You’re not done here, Chuuya.”

“I’m not but my dick is,” he says, still kind of whiny. “I think you just sucked me dry, I really fucking think you did.” You can’t help but to laugh a little more as he lowers your leg and rolls you onto your back. “It’s only polite--” he says, dropping to his knees “--that I return the favor.” In a flash his tongue is on your pussy, lapping up his cum as it spills out of you. He swallows it without comment, and keeps lapping at your pussy, dipping his tongue into your hole while it’s still nice and open from his cock. You run your hand through his hair again, making sure he can’t pull back too far. You want his whole face in your cunt and you aren’t letting up on this. 

His fingers join his mouth, taking over for his tongue in prodding at your hole. They slip inside, twisting together at the same time as they pull in and out. He teases your g-spot every time this way, and the side of his fingers on your sensitive walls feels so so good. You start moaning his name when his tongue swirls around your clit, working relentless circles on it. He intersperses little sucks on it, and once he even dips his nose down and uses it to rub your clit since it’s a bit firmer than his tongue. He eats you out like an absolute fucking champ, shaking his head and blowing out to give you slight vibrating sensations, suckling to give you quick peaks of stimulation, and flicking his tongue back and forth and rolling it in circles to build your orgasm up higher and higher and higher until finally.

“Oh god, Chuuya-- I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-- oohhhh Chuuya!!” Your back arches up, your fists close tightly in his hair, and you force his face into your pussy as you cum on his mouth and his fingers, rolling your hips to meet his touches. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, just keeps letting you use him as your orgasm rolls and rolls and finally starts to patter out. Only when you let go of his hair does he sit upright, pull his fingers out of you, and suck your cum off of his fingers.

“You’re a lot of fun, you know that?” he asks, standing up, stretching his somewhat sore muscles.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you sigh happily. Your whole body feels weightless and blissful and you aren’t ready to get up yet, even as Chuuya starts getting dressed.

“You dress like this often?”

“Every day off,” you say, finally having enough energy to at least pull your tube top back up to cover your breasts.

“Good. You should come see me again then.”

“You came to see me. And yes, you should come see me again.” You sit up, tilting your head and smiling mischievously at him.

“Guess I didn’t fuck the brat out of you yet,” he mumbles, reaching up to grab your jaw in his hand. “Next time then.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

[mellowwillowy]

I NEED TO TELL A YANDERE BLOG ABOUT THIS NSFW HEADCANON I HAVE-

Imagine a yandere that bought one of those super high quality sex dolls and dresses it up as you with stolen clothes and puts a wig on to match your hair color, etc, used it constantly calling out your name, etc

Also imagine you finDING IT- oml

- ☀️anon

☀️ nonnie you beeg brained :D

ᴡʜᴏꜱᴇ ʟɪꜰᴇ-ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴅᴏʟʟ? (ɢɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

♥ warnings — general yandere warnings, reader is a dom? and yan is a subby... doll and yan wears lingerie, degradations toward yan, sub-dom, worship - Master play, slapping and mention of sounding.

—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕, ʙʟᴜᴇ

By just dressing this silicone doll in the correct wig, outfits, and makeup and dousing it with perfume, he gets to practice all his fantasies on it. It almost looks like you now, especially with how accurately it's dressed since it is indeed your clothes that he stole. He does enjoy dressing it up with the type of outfits you wouldn't usually wear.

All is great but not the best.

Why? It's not you after all. It's just some silly expensive doll that is dressed to look like you to satiate his needs. Nonetheless, what's better than 0? 1. And that is this doll, a 1/100.

It's mostly used for menial stuffs such as a morning bed buddy, a company for breakfast and a company for when he's sat in front of the computer for a long time, alone.

But when night falls?

"Fuck–, be good." He grunts as he slams his cock into the doll, mindlessly calling out your name like some sort of prayer, eyes rolling to the back of his head. The doll is totally abused by him every night, dressed in countless themed outfits.

"Yeah, yeah, gonna cum, gonna paint you white from the inside fuck-!"

His pace grows erratic, breath raggier and tongue lolling out like a dog. He's already on cloud nine over a doll, what will it be if he's fucking the real deal instead?

"Ah- fuck, gonna cum-!"

The sound of beeping suddenly rings, cutting his panting in half as his eyes are trained toward the door.

Beep. Clack.

"Hey Blue, brought ya' the goods.... s...?"

Your eyes go up and down. Him, naked with a doll beneath him, his cock buried inside the doll, shielding your eyes from it. Hand tugging on the wig of your hairstyle and the clothes you thought you had somehow lost lying on the floor, not to mention the whole room smells like you!

"Uhh... am I supposed to... knock or ring the doorbell from now on?" You motion toward the door as you try to avert your gaze toward somewhere else. Ah yes, the framed photo of you two looks good on the cabinet.

"Wa-wait, wait, don't, I mean, stay! I mean, go-! Arghh..." Blue stutters as he pulls out, his hardened cock now on display for you to see. So he is a grower...?

"Listen, I mean, fuck, look anywhere but me!" Blush creeps into his face as he wraps the blanket around his waist, striding toward you in panic.

"I got ya' the lemonade and uh..." You fail. Your eyes are just a pair of curious souls, looking at how his bulge is seen poking through the blanket.

"... shitfuck. Never knew ya' a grower"

"This is no time for joke..."

"You want the awkwardness to die down or nah pal?"

Blue stays silent for a moment before crouching down in annoyance. He should have just chainlocked the damn door today!

"Been wondering why I've been missing some of my clothes and undies, ya' into stealing or just broke?"

His cock is supposed to be limp by now but it's not. It's twitching from your last words. What has gotten into his head?

"And that lingerie? Oo... never knew yer' a kinky one." Your foot nudges his shin before his bulging cock, giving it a rub. Blue shudders from the contact, falling backward on the butt while the blanket slips from his waist, revealing his aching cock that is leaking precum.

"Fucking masochistic aren't ya?"

You straddle him as you place the plastic bag down onto the floor, knee pressed against his bulge while your tongue licks his sweat from his face, hand slowly taking the glasses off his face, is this prescribed spectacle?

"My pretty boy."

You walk toward the bed and sit on it, your eyes trained on the naked doll, it looks almost like you, thumbs up for him for sure. You beckon him closer with your finger, and so he does.

"Would love to see you dressed in lingerie instead, come on, do a favor for me yeah doll?"

Blue gulps as he nods, slowly undressing the doll before wearing it himself, the size doesn't really fit him but it's manageable. His cock twitches every now and then as you watch his figure.

"Lovely, isn't it?"

"U-unh..."

"Did you pick this lingerie while thinking how it'll look like if it's wrapped around my body? How the color will suit me... how easy the access would be for you to just..." You sandwich his cock with your feet, rubbing it up and down, "feel me like I'm doing to you right now?"

Blue shakes as he moans out, his knees slowly turning into jellies. He needs you, to feel you all over. And so he pleads, "Please..."

You raise your eyebrows, "Please what?"

"Please... do me... yeah?"

You smack his cock with your foot, "Is that how you are supposed to talk to your Master?"

Blue gulps before kneeling down, his lip moving to your foot pressing kisses on it while occasionally licking it, "Please, Master." You try your best to bite your excitement back, eyes swirling in lust as you focus on the lovesick mutt in front of you. You'll collar him later but for now, he is your doll, yours to toy with just like how he's been toying with this doll.

"Come," You pat your thigh, "Let me feel that cheek of yours."

Blue nods and brings his face closer to yours, you can feel his breath fanning you. Your finger pokes his cheek before it turns into a palm that feels his cheek, hard. You slap him.

"Be good, else I'll fucking squeeze a pipe down your cock."

Blue shivers from the idea of sounding. That would totally feel so good, right? His cock starts leaking even more pre-cum, spoiling your thigh with the white liquid.

"Fucking mutt in heat. Why not rut yourself with my thighs?"

It only takes that for Blue to raise your legs by the ankles, his cock in between your thighs as he ruts himself in and out, panting like a dog in heat. You pinch him in response to his action, too bad you couldn't reach his nipple.

"Fucking slut." You rip the lacy lingerie as you claw him, nails digging into his hips, "Gonna fucking chew your cock off later until it's minced."

Blue's cock twitches again from your words, pace even more erratic now. "Please do so!" He is close, you can see it. But he knows better than to come before you allow him to first. "Please, please, please, lemme cum? Need one out so bad, hurts so much."

"Ah? Do I look like I care?" You scowl at him for pulling one of your legs away from him, kicking him by his shoulder, "Fucking mutt, go hold that until your balls are as good as blue and I wouldn't even care."

Blue whimpers at your words but his excitement only grows even more, it only pushes him even further from his limit.

"Please, please, please I beg you. Please..." He begs as he rubs his face against your foot, peppering it with kisses and licks, "Please let me come, just one word I'm all done, please..."

You sneer at him before kicking his face lightly, "Give me a twirl."

He twirls. "Show me how needy your cock is." He shows it to you, lifting the veil for a clearer view. "A striptease for me." He strips, eyes never leaving yours until you suddenly jerk him off, "Good boy... come on." You rub him even faster, his hip bucking toward you for a better angle, "Come, my pretty doll."

Rope of cum soils your feet not afterward, your name rings in the room as he pants, trying to grasp reality after how cum-dazed he was. You rub your spoiled feet against his pelvis, soiling it with his cum as well.

"Come," You open your arms wide for him to dive his face into your neck. You kiss his ear as you caress his hair, muttering praises at him.

"Wanna try the real deal now?"

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline sirius black x reader

CHAPTER NINE (see full series list here)

1993

You sip your tea, actually up in time for breakfast for once. Because of the night-time nature of your subject, you tend to go to bed later than the rest of the school and wake up later. It means you're especially close to the kitchen's house elves, as they often prepare you breakfast for when you eventually do get up. Especially Bitsy. You've taken to buying her film for her camera every Christmas, but it doesn't last long as she takes pictures of everything, including you.

"You know, I had the strangest dream last night," you say to Remus beside you.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm, I was in a sort of muggle circus tent, right? But it was on fire. And there was this guy there, wearing like a weird three-foot tall wizard's hat that morphed into this odd kind of wig afterwards," you recall. "And then, I kinda thought, 'hey, maybe I should use my wand to put out this fire' but instead of putting it out I transported it to Madam Puddifoot's."

Remus blinks at you, and you try and stop the smile from appearing on your face.

"You know what? That is a strange dream," he responds, shaking his head and you laugh.

"I know! It was so weird."

"Oh, I actually read something about dreams recently," Remus says thoughtfully. "Apparently they reflect things going on in your life."

You snort. "What, my desire to set Madam Puddifoot's on fire? I mean, I suppose it's not wrong..."

There's loud noise at the Gryffindor table, even students from other houses going over to it. You lean your head to the side to see Harry sitting at the table, grinning proudly at his Firebolt. You chuckle, looking down the table at Professor McGonagall.

"He got his broom back, so?" You say and she nods.

"Yes, couldn't find anything wrong with it, thankfully. And I must say, never have I seen a student so happy with something I have told him," she remarks and you grin.

"A Gryffindor win this year, perhaps?"

"Oh, I do hope so."

"You would only be so lucky," Snape says snidely beside her and you scoff.

"Don't need luck with that broom, right Severus?" You say cheekily and he raises his eyebrows disdainfully at you.

"At least my house have skill, and do not rely on their broomsticks to do the work for them."

"You're just jealous 'cause you want a spin on the Firebolt, Severus," you tease, returning to your breakfast.

Later, you sit with Remus in the Quidditch stands, looking out at the pitch in the cool, clear air.

"Merlin, I hope they win. I'm after placing a five-galleon bet with Filius that we win," you say, watching as the two captains shake hands and Madam Hooch blows her whistle to set off.

"You can't say 'we'," Remus says with a sigh. "We're supposed to be impartial, remember?"

"Ah, you hardly think any of these teachers are impartial, do you?" you laugh. "Sure even Dumbledore leans to Gryffindor just a little."

Lee Jordan's voice can be heard over the stands.

"They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt which Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship — "

"Jordan, would you mind telling us what is going on in the match?" interrupts McGonagall's voice.

"Right you are, Professor — just giving a bit of background information. The Firebolt, incidentally, has a built in auto-brake and — "

"Jordan!"

"Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor heading for goal..."

Remus chuckles beside you, nudging you with his elbow. "Mr Jordan reminds me of someone."

You roll your eyes, laughing. "I can't say that you're too far off...he can definitely give me a run for my money. I think my title of Best Commentator in the History of the World is in danger."

"Oh? And where were you given this prestigious award? The Academy of Modesty?"

You cackle, throwing your head back in laughter. "You witty bastard."

You watch as Harry zooms past on his broomstick, the Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho Chang, tailing after him.

"Gryffindor lead by eighty points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter's really putting it through its paces now. See it turn — Chang's Comet is just no match for it. The Firebolt's precision-balance is really noticeable in these long — "

"JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!"

Harry suddenly dives to the ground and you hold your breath, thinking he's seen the Snitch, but then he pulls up sharply and heads for the Ravenclaw end of the pitch, accelerating. Cho Chang follows suit, before she lets out a scream and points at three tall, black, hooded Dementors looking up at Harry.

You and Remus both turn to each other before quickly turning back to the match, just in time to see Harry produce his wand and yell, "Expecto patronum!"

A large silver stag erupts from Harry's wand and throws itself at the Dementors and knocks them off their feet —

Wait, their feet?

As you squint at the dark figures, you make out four young boys tangled in dark cloaks and click your tongue in disappointment, just as Harry grabs the Snitch and the stadium explodes into cheers.

You and Remus stand and leave your seats like the rest of the supporters, the Gryffindors rapidly streaming onto the pitch in celebration.

"You saw what I saw, right?" you ask.

"If you saw four boys playing dress-up as Dementors, then yes."

You find the four boys, immediately recognizing the faces of Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle and Marcus Flint.

"Well, well, well," you tut, hands on your hips as you look down at the heap of Slytherins. "Bet you regret doing that now, eh boys?"

They groan collectively and soon enough, McGonagall approaches with an expression of pure fury on her face. She starts to yell, and then Remus arrives with Harry in tow, and you don't miss the look on Harry's face at the sorry site in front of him.

"An unworthy trick!" McGonagall shouts. "A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!"

You grin at Harry, whispering, "Excellent Patronus, Harry!"

He beams proudly.

An great victory for Gryffindor indeed, especially considering you're five-galleons richer as you return to your bedroom.

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

Sharp knocking on your door jolts you awake that night, and you quickly swing your legs over and out of your bed to answer the incessant knocking. Dubh meows angrily at the interruption of her sleep, as if she doesn't sleep the whole day anyway.

"I'm coming, I'm coming..." you quickly leave your bedroom and enter your small office, unlocking the door and swinging it open. "Minerva?"

"Sirius Black has broken into the school again," she tells you quickly. "Ronald Weasley said he was standing over him with a knife not too long ago."

You feel your mouth drop, unable to form any cohesive sentences as your brain tries to wrap around the information you've just gotten. "What?"

She nods, a grim look on her face. "I am terribly sorry about this...but I do need to check your room."

You nod wordlessly, opening the door for her to step in. "Yeah, yeah, go ahead..."

McGonagall does a quick sweep of your office and bedroom, stopping to give Dubh a brief few pets before she returns to your side at the door, shaking her head.

"Nothing here, of course," she says. "Will you accompany me in my search of the rest of the castle?"

You give her a confused look. "Are you sure? I thought Dumbledore doesn't want me to be involved in any searches like this...lest I sabotage it."

McGonagall scoffs. "I trust you. I know you are not stupid enough to let him into the castle, let alone let him out of your sight if you had. "

You give her a small smile. "Thanks." You grab the keys to your room and step outside, closing it behind you and locking it firmly. "Alright, let's go..."

You walk down the hallway together, wands shining light and at the ready. "How the bloody hell did he get into Gryffindor Tower? Did he attack Sir Cadogan too?"

McGonagall kisses her teeth, shaking her head in frustration. "No. Neville Longbottom was so incredibly foolish he wrote down the whole week's passwords and then left them lying around for anyone to find."

You sigh. "Oh, Neville...poor, forgetful Neville."

You scour the halls together, occasionally passing Professors Vector and Flitwick on their own search, but end up finding no trace of Sirius anywhere.

You bid goodbye to McGonagall and return to your room. As you unlock the door, you half expect to find him on the other side, but when you open it there's no one there, just your desk, messily covered with parchment and quills.

You return to your bed, but can't sleep at all so you choose to sit up and read more of the book you've been reading lately. Dubh stretches, jumping up onto your bed to nestle herself in your lap, purring softly. You pause to reach out and scratch her ears, before returning to your book.

Why was Sirius standing over Ron Weasley with a knife? It just doesn't make sense to you. You really are beginning to think he did truly go mad. And there's no way Ron dreamt it because Sir Cadogan confirmed that he did let him in...so why? Why would he do that? He wasn't actually going to murder an innocent boy like that, was he? He wasn't going to really take someone's life just like that, was he?

You reach the end of your page and realise that your eyes are just looking at the words and not actually taking them in. So finally, you step out of your bed and choose to do what you always do when you can't sleep: stargaze.

You shrug on a warm hoodie and a pair of slippers, grab your wand and leave. Dubh decides to follow and the two of you make your way up the Astronomy Tower. You sit beside the railing, legs dangling out over the edge as you grip the railing, looking up into the dark sky above. Dubh wanders around the room, sniffing various objects and rubbing up against them, before eventually she settles on curling up beside you and closing her eyes.

It's a clear night thankfully, and you can see all the twinkling stars perfectly. Beautiful, flaming objects of gas that are millions and billions of light years away from you. It's crazy to think that you are just one small, near-imperceptible speck on the ever-growing canvas of the universe. It's what drew you to astronomy in the first place. The study of space, because that's all it is. Space. That idea that, really, nothing matters at all. The world does not revolve around you. It never has, and it never will.

It's something that's always fuelled you to stop worrying about things. Why spend your time on this earth, your beautiful one-in-an-infinity chance to live, worrying about things? Though you say that, you can't help but worry anyway. You worry about Sirius, you worry about your friends, your family, your students, your godson, your cat, your job. Because even though the world doesn't revolve around you, your world revolves around the things and people you love.

A thin line of light streaks through the sky and you silently wish for peace from the thoughts that trouble you.

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

Security is noticeably tightened around the castle the next day. Filch is boarding up every crack and mouse hole in the castle; Flitwick teaches the front doors to recognise a picture of Sirius; and with Sir Cadogan sacked and the Fat Lady restored, big security trolls now patrol around her portrait, grunting at each other and comparing the size of their clubs.

You miss breakfast again, and tickle the pear on the fruit painting outside the kitchen, stepping inside quickly. The house elves all look up and greet you, immediately setting to work on something for your breakfast. Bitsy runs up to you excitedly, camera swinging around her neck.

"Hello, mistress!" she squeaks, holding up her camera. "Say 'cheers'!"

"Cheers...?" you say quizzically and there's a flash from Bitsy's camera.

A photo slowly emerges out the end of the camera and she shakes it excitedly, thrusting it into your face. Sure enough, there you are, mouthing the word 'cheers' with a confused expression.

You chuckle lightly, pushing the photo down out of your eye line gently. "Lovely, Bitsy. You could be a professional photographer at this rate!"

She grins wide, her big brown eyes twinkling. "Thank you, mistress!"

"Oh, and the word is 'cheese', not 'cheers', Bitsy," you say with a small laugh and she lets out a loud "Oh!".

Then you're presented with a tray of breakfast from another house elf, and you accept it gratefully as the elf bows. You sit down at a small table, tucking into a breakfast of fruit, pancakes and a great mug of tea.

You drain the mug, though you find you haven't got much of an appetite and give the house elves in front of you an apologetic look. "I'm awfully sorry, but my appetite just isn't there. Thank you all very much."

Bitsy bows with a smile. "That's okay, mistress! Bitsy is happy to help!"

"Bitsy is not the only house elf that prepared mistress's breakfast," another elf says with a scowl.

You chuckle lightly, smiling. "Don't worry, I am well aware. Thank you very much."

You turn to leave but are stopped by Bitsy. "Oh, mistress, the Headmaster told Bitsy to tell you he wants to see you in his office! He also said he really likes Bubbling Bonzies!"

You raise your eyebrows, nodding. "Oh, right. Okay. Thanks, Bitsy."

You leave, knowing well what Dumbledore wants to see you about. It's certainly not a raise in your pay, anyway. As you move through the castle, you pass Ron Weasley standing with Harry and relaying his chilling tale to a few second-year girls.

" — and I saw him standing over me, like a skeleton...with loads of filthy hair...holding this great long knife, must've been twelve inches..."

You continue walking past them, shaking your head, and it's not long before you arrive outside the entrance to Dumbledore's office. "Bubbling Bonzies," you say to the stone gargoyle. The wall starts to move and a spiral staircase is revealed to you. You make your way up and knock on the door to Dumbledore's office.

"Come in."

You push the door open, finding Dumbledore sitting at his desk and sitting in front of him, is none other than the Minister of Magic.

"Minister," you say in slight surprise, walking further into the room. Dumbledore gestures for you to sit down beside Fudge and you do, eyeing him warily.

"Now, Professor...I am sure you know why I have called you here," Dumbledore says and you nod.

"Yes, Headmaster."

"It is my understanding," Fudge says, turning his head to you, "that Sirius Black once again broke into the school and this time he successfully managed to get into Gryffindor Tower, terrifying the students there."

"You'd be right about that, Minister."

"What is your involvement?" Fudge demands, and you turn to him in disbelief.

"What is my involvement?" you repeat, glaring at him. "I didn't have any!"

Fudge scoffs. "It is more than just a coincidence that Black has managed to get into the school more than once! How did he do it?"

"I don't know, ask him."

"Stop your denying!" Fudge snaps. "I have given you the benefit of the doubt time and time again, but I have had it up to here! Did you help Sirius Black get into this castle?"

"No, of course not!"

"Cornelius, please," Dumbledore intervenes calmly, bringing a hand up to silence the both of you. He looks at you. "Professor, please, can you tell us what you were doing last night after the Quidditch match?"

You sigh, kissing your teeth. "Alright. After the match, I went back to my quarters. I worked on a few things from my fifth-years, then I went to bed."

"What exactly did you work on?" Fudge demands.

"Essays on the relationship between Saturn's moons and its rings," you reply bitterly.

Dumbledore motions for you to continue. "Then, at around half one or so, Professor McGonagall came and informed me of the break-in. Then we searched the castle together, found no one, and I returned to my bedroom. Then I read a book, tried to sleep but couldn't, and went up to the Tower to stargaze."

"A likely story," Fudge mumbles under his breath.

"See, Cornelius? A perfect alibi," Dumbledore says.

"Perfect alibi? She was practically alone the whole time!"

You scoff. "Minister, honestly, what reason would I have to let him into the castle? Do you think I want him to go around scaring the life out of my students?"

"I — I don't know! How else could he have gotten in? He would have needed inside help."

"Take a walk, Minister. Don't you think that a man capable of breaking out of Azkaban on his own is capable of breaking in to Hogwarts on his own?"

"But — the Dementors — "

"If the Dementors didn't catch him then that's not my problem," you snap. "If they're really so hell-bent on giving him that Kiss then they ought to work a little harder."

Fudge doesn't respond.

"A lovely thing, by the way. The Dementors' Kiss."

Fudge makes a noise, halfway between a frustrated growl and a sigh. "He is a murderer. He deserves no better fate."

"No one deserves that fate other than Voldemort himself."

Fudge winces, hissing, "Don't speak that name!"

"Coward," you mutter under your breath, and Fudge doesn't hear it. "You didn't give Sirius a trial last time, why give him one this time? You're so kind, Minister."

"Please, Cornelius, let us put this matter to rest," Dumbledore says. "I have the utmost faith in my staff. I know she wouldn't do anything to jeopardize the safety of her students."

"I really, honestly, wouldn't," you say to Fudge earnestly. "I love my job and I love this school and I love my students. I would never do anything to hurt them."

It's quiet for a moment, before Fudge speaks. "Do you still think he is innocent?"

You don't respond.

Fudge silently fumes in his seat and Dumbledore says, "I think that is enough. You may go, Professor."

You breathe a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Headmaster." You give Fudge a parting glare and depart from the office, closing the door behind you.

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter ten here!

→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡

[vintagetvstars]

Reece Shearsmith Vs. Alexander Siddig

Propaganda

Reece Shearsmith - (The League Of Gentlemen (seasons 1-3), tlc) - "...he has the LONGEST eyelashes in the entire world and the BLUEST eyes and I am really enamoured by the lil scar on his cheek that he got from an accident when he was a kid!" Full text propaganda below the cut.

Alexander Siddig - (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine) - The very first actor I ever had a crush on.

Master Poll List | How to submit propaganda | What is vintage? (FAQ)

Additional propaganda below the cut

Reece Shearsmith:

I'd highly recommend people checking out him as Matthew Parker in one of the stories in the League's Christmas episode, the 70's style outfit and blonde wig suit him SO well. picture here:

Ok so given that many of the characters he plays in The League Of Gentlemen are purposefully made to be kinda grotesque and yet he STILL manages to look cute most of the time??? There's also not many actors I'm willing to check out basically their entire filmography for, but not only is he such a brilliant comedic character actor, he has a great knack for making you sympathise with some of the most bizarre and sometimes down right terrifying characters! (and yes I'm also watching everything he's been in because he's hot, sue me) He was also in a kinda weird comedy series called 'tlc' where he played a very hapless and cute doctor but it's so hard to find pictures of him in this since it only ran for 1 series and there's like 300 other bits of media called 'tlc' :( & also as Ross Gaines specifically in that one scene wear he's wearing a dressing gown. (ignore the scene that comes directly after this picture though lol... iykyk...) picture here:

Ok and final remarks: he has the LONGEST eyelashes in the entire world and the BLUEST eyes and I am really enamoured by the lil scar on his cheek that he got from an accident when he was a kid!

Also may i direct all sapphic's attention to the majesty that is him as Judee Levinson... you're welcome <3 picture here:

Alexander Siddig:

"At my first meeting with Garak I became visibly flustered. That was entirely my choice. It wasn’t written into the script. So I set off in that direction right from the get-go. And Andy (Andrew Robinson) obviously loved it, and that character became a series-long character because of that first scene. It’s an innocuous little scene on one of the little replimats on the station, and it only lasted like five seconds but it packed a punch because of the visible, kind of a charged, discomfort. That really made it. [...] I subconsciously keep that door open with just about every character that I play, and I always keep it as ambiguous as possible. One of my first roles was in [the TV movie] A Dangerous Man: Lawrence After Arabia with Ralph Fiennes and I played Feisal and again, not in the script, but that was charged with homoerotica and implied homosexuality. I’d just come fresh off that project. And I’ve done it numerous times since, characters that are written straight I just make sure are not quite straight. That’s just one of my things, probably because I’m not quite straight myself and that’s probably perfect." - Alexander Siddig in a recent interview with comicsbeat.com

[starkenobi]

Christmas Elves | Bucky Barnes x reader

masterlist — warnings: mcu; silly fluff; drabble.

Summary: Bucky's finally meeting his girlfriend's parents during christmas. Nothing could go wrong, right?

[same universe of Courage Drink and Handsome]

December had finally arrived, and after almost a year together, Bucky would finally meet Y/N's parents. A step to make things even more official as a couple. A status that both of them kept dancing around for months, not knowing for sure if it was the time to bring up the topic. Bucky was on cloud nine, fondly remembering the night Y/N spent at his apartment, having to answer a video call from her parents and listening to Mrs. L/N asking how her boyfriend was. Him. Bucky Barnes. Boyfriend of a brilliant and lovely woman.

However, he was called for a mission that took almost two weeks to finish, throwing all his plans out through the window. When the night finally came, Bucky felt like a bucket of cold water had fallen over his head. In the rush to come home, he'd forgotten that the dinner had a costume party tradition and that Y/N suggested they go dressed as elves.

Running to the nearest store that was still open, Bucky texted his girlfriend (he couldn't stop the silly smile every time he called her that), saying he would meet her in front of her parents' house, making an excuse about helping his oldest neighbor. He tried his best to find an elf costume, but to no avail due to his height and chest. For a brief second, he regretted his decision to start working out more.

"Look, son, I have an elf costume here that should fit you." The old lady who owned the costume store murmured thoughtfully, a smile on her lips probably trying to reassure him. "But it's not exactly the elf you're looking for."

Bucky shook his head, smiling back, despite being more nervous than anything else. "No, it's okay. I'll take it anyway."

Bucky regretted a few things in life, but at that moment, he not only regretted it but also wanted to disappear, to pretend that day never happened. The closer the taxi got to the final destination, the more he felt the despair take over. Y/N was already waiting for him outside, wearing an extremely cute christmas elf outfit, the red skirt highlighting her physique and being a small contrast to the huge green sweater, and an equally huge hat making everything perfect. Bucky took a deep breath, paying the driver and getting out of the car.

He didn't know exactly what reaction he was expecting from Y/N, but it certainly wasn't her laughing so hard to the point of almost falling on the sidewalk.

"Oh, James."

Y/N sighed, looking him from head to toe so she could assess him better. Bucky was wearing a costume similar to the ones Orlando Bloom wore in Lord of the Rings film, with the blond wig and a ridiculously cute Santa hat on his head. "Honey, you look absolutely gorgeous."

Bucky blushed with the compliment, but his shoulders slumped in defeat anyway. "Sweetheart, can we reschedule this dinner? We'll talk tomorrow -"

With her boyfriend's reaction, Y/N straightened her posture, closing the distance so she could hold his face. "James, you don't need to be embarrassed. In fact, my parents -"

But she didn’t finish comforting him. The door of the house opened abruptly, interrupting them. And, to Bucky's horror, Y/N's parents practically marched towards them. Mrs. L/N's eyes widened for a moment as she looked at Bucky.

"Dear daughter, if you lose this boy, we'll disown you!"

Y/N grunted in exasperation, blushing at her mother's words. Her dad, not far away, greeted Bucky with a handshake, a wide smile on his lips.

"I'm happy to know that our daughter has conquered an elf of such importance." Letting go of Bucky's hand, Mr. L/N patted him on the shoulder. "Welcome to the family, Legolas."

comments, likes and reblogs are welcome and appreciated! thank you for reading and supporting my writing 💜

note: english isn’t my first language, and i don't mind if you call me inbox or dm to point out errors or typos. but please be kind!

[respectthepetty]

We started episode nine of Wandee Goodday with the blinding yellow orb of light surrounded by pink/purple flowers. I'm gonna ignore the Ter part because between this and OMG! Vampire (and Thai BLs in general), I got questions about the lack of severity regarding male sexual assault and harassment, but that's a different post.

The props department has given me a yellow and purple labeled beer with the production name on it - AllThat Beer. Bless you, props department.

Yellow on Yak's side, purple on Dee's side, and they kiss in the blue with the purple countdown, and because I hate this blue, hopefully this is also a countdown to the fake part of their relationship ending soon.

@overrgrownn, already pointed out how they swap colors when they step outside and Yak turns pink, but the mermaid tails are in their colors too in yellow/red and purple/pink. Great had a picture on the set of him in a red wig and the boys have been spotted in other wigs, so maybe we wrote this mermaid plot off to quickly.

GET OUT OF HERE BLUE!

Much better! Much much better!

I knew the building's exterior lights were purple, but I hadn't realized it had yellow accents.

This is the worst montage of my life! I can deal with Yak in black because it's one of his colors, but seeing that brown and blue the entire time Yak is trying to woo Dee is disgusting!

Because even when there is yellow, it is covered up!

Both of them are very aware of their feelings! The colors are right there! SO WHY CAN'T I GET THEM?!

It's because they are faking it even when they don't need too!

And I've done been saying that Yak has tried to copy Ter because that's who Dee liked for eight years, so TAKE THE BROWN OFF YOUR BODY!

Y'all don't want to be to fake blue and brown like Ter trying to figure out his life.

And as cute as the boxing couple are, neither Yak nor Dee are an odd little boxing man or his girlfriend!

SO QUIT THE BIULLSHIT, DEE! I don't know why you feel you must lie about your feelings or your color anymore. I'm pretty sure that shirt is pink, so you're just going to sit there in a pink shirt AND LIE with the blue backing you up?! LIAR!!!!!!

I have a theory about the eleventh episode, and I think this man foreshadows it since Ter took too long to sort out his feelings and lost out, but before I write about it, I appreciate AllThat Entertainment for using the same actors in its shows because I deserve to see this man not surrounded by a harem of boys and being batshit crazy.

But back to Dee because even Kao knows what his true color is with his purple confidential folder.

So get it the fuck together, Dee! You know what your color and feelings are, so quit playing with this blue and these lies.

Because I think the eleventh episode will be Yak giving up. Yak lost his first boxing match because he ran out of energy to continue the fight, and Dee has continued this fight for no good reason. Therefore, I've been thinking that Yak was going to give up and Dee would have to finally step up and prove he loves Yak. Now, I NEED THIS TO HAPPEN!

Because as much as Dee is there for Yak, he is still hiding behind this illusion of a fake relationship.

Yak needs to win that final match, but he is dealing with some mental blockage. (This picture was absolutely necessary because he is wearing blue here)

The yellow comes from his mom.

And probably the pants too which is why they are so important. (Thanks, Dee, for showing up in your color)

So Dee gives Yak peace of mind and fills the voids that were left behind when Yak's mother died. We see the same dynamic between Cher and Yei.

But what will happen if Dee doesn't bring peace when Yak needs it the most? Dee's Nineties shirt had the always important message to "Make Love, Not War," but is he taking that advice?

He is absorbing Yak's color and combining it with his.

Yak is telling him that he loves Dee in every single way possible.

And they continue to switch colors as they kiss on the lips.

But Dee continues to deny his feelings and push Yak away when he feels too much. Next week, Yak is fighting for his family and home in episode ten, so I'm hoping everything else gets resolved, and all we are left with is the championship match and love for the last two episodes. My fingers are crossed that Yak will lose in this battle of love with Dee since Dee must always win (and he will win that scholarship).

Please, GMMTV, force Dee to make a choice because even if he wins everything, he'll still lose something.

Please.

[miryum]

I had a thought—

So Hogwarts was founded around 990 CE, right? Up to when Harry attended, that gives us about 1000 years that Rowling didn't cover or explore. And that means 1000 year of troubles that I have questions about

1000-1300 CE: Okay, so like, medieval times. Can we talk about the sexism that would be here? How did the professors handle that? The girls would have to wear these horrid clothes and expect to have flying lessons? Or were flying lessons only for the boys? How much of Hogwarts was gender segregated? And the Holy Roman Empire was all the rage. That means ultra-Christianity. What if a kid from upper Scotland came in and worshipped polytheism? What then? Would the other kids have burned them or killed them?

1400 CE: This was when witch burnings/huntings were getting popular. I'm assuming that the kids were safe when they got to Hogwarts, but what about Muggleborns? If a guy dressed in robes came to this peasant's mudhut and said "your daughter's a witch!" you're telling me that those parents wouldn't burn their daughter at the stake? And yes, wizards/witches could easily hide their abilities once they graduated, but what if they had a kid that came out magical? How would you explain that your baby is levitating to the townsfolk? Or what if you married a muggle? Would you have to hide your identity your entire marriage? Would you have to hope your kids weren't magical like you? And what if you're a woman who then marries an awful muggle man and you know you're stronger than him and can kill him extremely easily in his sleep, but you can't because it's 1400 CE?!?!

1500 CE: We're getting to the Renaissance right now, okay? So all these kids are beginning to explore literal magic and you're telling me they didn't mix that with the new inventions of the era? Was Galileo or Michelangelo really a wizard? And if all these inventors/thinkers were wizards, who else? Magic has spanned all of time, apparently, so were the pyramids built with magic? (sorry, that was a small side tangent.) And then the Reformation came along and split everyone into different religions. Were there tensions among Catholic/Lutheran students? What about the teachers? What if a Lutheran fell in love with a Catholic at school? What then?

1600-1700 CE: Now lemme ask about social classes. How big of a problem was that? And I think we all know that this problem spanned much longer than just the two centuries I'm giving it. Imagine if a Dutch aristocrat's daughter was admitted to Hogwarts and "oh, it's just a fancy boarding school?" you tell the parents, "great! she can go" so then she gets there, all dressed to the nines with the ballgowns and big wigs and finds out she has to room with a peasant girl and an artist's daughter. Can you imagine?! And yes, maybe they would've become friends, but realistically, probably not. The daughter would demand her own room, but the headmaster couldn't do that, so what would happen? Would she order her new roommates to help her get dressed each morning? Would she look down her nose at them? Would there be different tables in the Great Hall for the upper class? I'm assuming that the professors would have different viewpoints concerning what their background was, so would the Dutch daughter be aghast when her professor (who used to be a blacksmith's apprentice) takes her down a notch and hits her in front of the whole class? And what would recreational activities be like? Yes, everyone would have the same uniforms during class, but can you imagine a guy walking up to you on a lazy Sunday dressed in his powdered wig and golden coattails with their weirdly high white socks and buckled shoes?

1800 CE: Slavery. We know that had to have been racial segregation, right? And even if Europe was all progressive and abolished slavery starting in the 1400s, some countries definitely still had slavery. And don't even get me started on America and Ilvermorny. Being a Southern belle and then having to take classes and eat in the same room from the same plates as someone that looks like the slaves your father owns? (What about the fucking Civil War?! Confederates and unionists in the same school?!) And I'm sure the same thing happened in Hogwarts! And I didn't even mention the Transatlantic Slave Trade in the 1500-1800s!! How did Hogwarts handle racism? If they just banned all non-whites from the premise, then they lost a large chunk of the next generation of wizards and witches. And those poor boys and girls they banned. Imagine having all these strange phenomenons happen your entire life and have no idea why or trying to hide them because you didn't go to Hogwarts and learned what they were or how to channel them!

1900-2000 CE: Oh my fucking god. Where to begin? The style is drastically different from the 1600s. Now students are coming in with flappers dresses and their hair slicked back and everything and professors are like, "what the fuck?" Did the Yule Ball have different types of dancing? I'm assuming so. Were their more dances because the students loved it? And then the fucking Great Depression hits and now most students can't even buy the necessary textbooks to come to school. Most are needed by their families for work (AND ALSO!!! I didn't mention, but in medieval times, did parents even let their kids go to Hogwarts? They needed them to work the fields or stuff.) Then, growing anti-semitism starts up and some of the students are discriminated against because of their religion, just like back in 1000-1300 CE. The World Wars happen and what if a German kid (who's being indoctrinated and I can go on a whole other rant about children in Germany I swear, don't get me started because I will defend the kids until my last breath) is proudly wearing a swastika just like his daddy and then sees a Jewish kid and starts yelling slurs, just like his dad does? How many kids did Hogwarts save from concentration camps? Did the magical kids beg for the muggle siblings to come and stay at Hogwarts to save them from Auschwitz? Then there were hardly any boys for a generation because they were all off fighting a goddamn war! Things started to chill out for a while until kids came into Hogwarts wearing bell bottoms and tye-die and the girls were burning their bras and were the boys cheering them on or was there serious backlash? How much fucking weed was passed around in the 70s? (This is the marauder era btw.) Did the gay wizards/witches finally feel safe enough about coming out? Or were there too many people against them still? OR, did the homophobic people learn to be more accepting because they had to be? Because they were in the same classes, same dorms, same everything as gays? What about magic birth control? Or, was everyone too worried about Voldemort to burn their bras and come out as gay? How much did Voldemort truly influence the Wizarding World? And then Harry fucking Potter came along, the 90s happened and now, his kids have just graduated! I'm assuming Hogwarts has to have changed with technology, but how much? Do professors think magic is losing the battle to technology or are Muggleborns actually still more fascinated by magic than their phones (I'm assuming if you saw someone change from a human to a cat, that'd be more cool than a TikTok, but who knows?!) Does Hogwarts have WiFi and outlets? Or are kids forbidden from technology? And how did kids from the 80s-90s keep up with technology? Did they all just trapse down to a small town by Hogsmead and have to catch up with all the blockbuster movies there?

In short, I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS

[riddle-me-ri]

a/n: Happy halloween!! again not sure where in the queue this will be post, but I do have a Scarecrow x reader fic for Halloween but I also thought I'd do a little headcanon for Lupin and the others for fun! Also because I think this idea is pretty cute…especially given these guys’ knack for disguises lol but of course there's some blushing and flustering happening this time around lol also this was slightly rush so sorry for more mistakes than usual rip

Content Warning: light flirting, subtle mentions of intimacy (mainly in Lupin's part)

Lupin and Others React to You Dressing Up as Them for Halloween

Lupin the Third

- Hey, hey, hey now! What do we have here?

- Is he looking into a mirror?

- Corny lines aside, Lupin is over the moon.

- He always did sometimes imagine you wearing his clothes...

- Granted it wasn't for a Halloween gag when you did it in his imagination...but he will take what he can get.

- As the night wears on, expect him to keep combing over you and making sure you look accurate.

- Would definitely suggest you two try and get one over on Pops (even though you don't think you look that much like Lupin)

- Lupin definitely relishes in you dressing up like him.

- He always knew you'd look cute in anything…but you look especially adorable in a copy of his signature attire.

- Maybe…just maybe he could talk into convincing you to let him help you take off your costume later…

- The poor gunslinger immediately stepped back away from you in caution.

Jigen Daisuke

- Then he took in your silly sweet giggle.

- You tipped up your version of his hat and the long fluffy wig you wore that covered your eyes much like the man before you.

- Your giggles turned into proper laughs as you took in Jigen's expression.

- “I guess I did a pretty good job, huh?”

- Jigen shook his head, but chuckled under his breath.

- “Did a good job giving me a heart attack.”

- He would never admit it out loud…but his cheeks did warm up slightly.

- Jigen never imagined the day that you would be dressed up to look like him…

- And he could never imagine how attractive you would look…

- “The only thing I seem to be missing is a certain handgun…”

- Jigen scoffed, more composed than before. “Not a chance!”

- Goemon is flustered but also baffled…

Goemon Ishikawa XIII

- He understands the traditions of dressing up in costume….just why him?

- Also who had you fitted for a kimono? You should have asked him to come with you-

- When you tell him it was a surprise for him, he has no more questions and just blushes.

- You comment about how it's far more comfortable outfit than you thought.

- You begin playing with the sleeves as you put your arms in and out through them or have them cover your hands.

- Goemon's face gets redder as he mutters at you to stop or you'll ruin it.

- He does notice you also have a saya…

- You quickly dismiss that you didn't have an actual katana, just a plastic one for the outfit.

- Goemon nods in acknowledgement, he's still in disbelief that you'd dress up as him and not for some kind of plan-

- Then he notices how your chest is somewhat exposed like his is–the heart under his chest beats a little faster…

- Before a scary thought of just how accurate was your outfit to his….

- Oh he may not live to see next Halloween...

- I don't know why but I can kind of see it being her idea?

Fujiko Mine

- Like she mentioned the idea and how cute it would be awhile back but now you actually have a good reason to dress up as her.

- Similar to Lupin, she will definitely help you complete your look so you look as accurate as possible.

- Hair, make up, clothes, shoes-the whole nine yards

- Definitely appreciates the abundance of skin that's revealed to her from you wearing her type of attire.

- Will also begin attempting to dress up like you to complete the swapped looks theme.

- At one point you two decide to put your costume through the ultimate test–

- You both roll your eyes as Lupin got far too excited over the idea of two Fujikos

- When I tell you this man has absolute stars in his eyes.

Inspector Koichi Zenigata

- He's flattered, excited, absolutely over the moon.

- Zenigata will definitely take pictures of the two of you side by side and ones with just you.

- (if it's photos on his phone, definitely expect him to have you dressed as him saved as his wallpaper)

- Will compliment your dedication to detail

- Although he will argue your vocal impression of him may need a little work.

- Zenigata is more excited about your costume than you were surprising him with it.

- May or may not take you to work and show you off a teeny tiny bit

- (and honestly most of his colleagues are just pleased that he's talking about someone/something other than Lupin)

[merakiui]

thinking about modern au stalker kunikuzushi who has been stalking you for years and so at this point he's essentially witnessed key moments of your life from the shadows. he supports you through all of it, always pleased to know you're doing well or succeeding. one day he'll take you for himself and then he won't have to confine himself to the sidelines. the closest he's ever gotten was when he stood behind you on a crowded train. you didn't pay him any mind.

kuni loves you, but sometimes he can't love all of your choices. so when he learns you're pregnant, he's angry. very angry. so angry he thinks about punching a hole in the wall or marching right up to your door to demand you explain why you'd dare spread your legs for another person when he's all you need. he fumes for all of the nine months, so consumed with jealousy and anger and betrayal. how dare you. how dare you. how fucking dare you!

to make matters worst, he works receptionist at the local hospital and so he occasionally encounters you with your partner or with a friend; both are always so helpful and supportive when accompanying you to your check-ups. for the first time, he hates seeing the happiness on your face. he hates your partner, your friends, your round belly. he catches himself thinking violent, hateful thoughts. he never does anything, though. he smiles politely, talks kindly, has you check in, starts simple conversations like: "how far along are you?" or "it's supposed to be windy today. take care on your way home." they're all basic pleasantries, but you always answer sweetly. he wishes that was his baby inside of you. he wishes he was your partner. he wishes he could sew himself into your life as a permanent fixture and not someone trapped in the dark.

kuni marks off dates on his calendar, each passing day an indication that your due date is drawing inevitably near and that you're starting a family with someone else and he'll never be able to have you for himself. he hates feeling so hollow and incomplete when he thinks of you, your partner, and your child. isn't he deserving of a happy family, too? shouldn't he get that chance like everyone else? isn't he allowed to have happiness?

it's dr. zandik who delivers your baby. a healthy baby girl with bright, beautiful eyes. she's precious and has your eyes, your nose, your everything if kuni is concerned. any features inherited from your partner are looked over because overall she really is the sweetest miracle you could ever produce. kuni has always had a soft spot for weak creatures: for the elderly, for children, for little animals.

dressed in clothes borrowed from his sister, wearing makeup and a long, flowing wig, he stands at the viewing window and peers in at all of the crying infants in their cribs, swathed in soft fabrics, and it finally hits him that you're a mother now. a mother...

there are people around him, crowding the glass to peek at their newborn family members. he thinks someone asks him which child is his. mindlessly, he gestures to the one in the far corner.

dr. zandik is rather amused with the disguise, but he acts like nothing's wrong when he hands your child to kuni, who's pretending to be a relative of yours (that's the clever story they'll tell everyone when your baby is absent from your arms). in return for this favor, kuni has to do something very important for dr. zandik (after all, he isn't going to give without expecting to take something back in return). but none of that matters when kuni holds such a fragile life in his arms and he has to bite back tears because he's not sure if his makeup is waterproof. this is your baby. this is a part of you. this is the thing he's always wanted. a family. a reason to live. he's always wanted a genuine familial connection. and for the first time in his life, he's so indescribably happy. he was angry with you before, but all of that melts away when he holds your baby and she reaches out with a tiny, fragile hand to hold his finger.

the hospital never sees kuni or your baby again. conveniently, he put in his notice a few weeks in advance to avoid suspicion with the reasoning that he would be pursuing further education elsewhere. to the security cameras, it wasn't a man who took your child. it was a woman.

kuni knows you'll be devastated, but you don't have to worry! he'll be the best father, and while he's raising your baby (and keeping a very low profile) he'll continue to plan for the day when he inevitably steals you from your life and forces you into his. then the both of you can be parents, can have a family, can live a happy, wonderful, loving life. it will take time, but one day you'll get to see your little girl and, along with that, you'll finally get to meet him. he's nervous and excited all at once. perhaps these are those fabled first-time father jitters he's read about? :)

[eggcompany]

Castiel The Hottest Oddest Duck Part 2

Cas was smiling behind his hand as he swung his feet back and forth from where he sat on one of the garden swings covered in fake flowers. He likes the swings, simple, wooden, place where he could sit with all the other pretty girls and be ogled at. He had on his white dress tonight. It was their anniversary after all. Four years since they officially became boyfriends. Or girlfriends when they were in the club. 

So Cas was swinging in his poofy white dress, thick white socks covering his legs up to his thighs, showing only a sliver of his thighs below the lacy hem. He liked that his sleeves went down to his wrists, covering his arms so he didn’t have to shave. He was wearing his long black wig, the thick one that was a gift from Dean for their first anniversary. It was the same pitch dark as his real hair but hung just above his elbows. He’d done his own makeup, the style he liked. Nature but feminizing, soft pink lipstick. 

He looked down over the railing of the candy colored platform down into the darkness of the bar. The remodel of the club really called more people in, more rooms, more stages, places for everyone. The platform that overlooked the club for anyone who just wanted to be pretty, dressed or not, was Cas’s favorite. Because Cas could swing forward, his toes keeping him up, and see Dean down below behind the bar. He was wearing a pair of pink panties and an apron tonight. Some eye makeup but all Dean Winchester. 

Cas smiled and kept his eyes on Dean, he was bulkier than when they first met, putting on muscle and weight. He was gorgeous. Laughing and chatting as he shook up drinks and wiped down the counters. 

Cas always wondered how Dean was so confident in his own skin, happy to get bare down to his boots and panties. Cas could never, he always wore at least a dress or skirt around other people. But Dean never pressured him to show more. 

~

“Hey Cassie, wanna go grab a drink? I know Dean’s on the bar tonight.” It was another one of the girls who really just wanted to be pretty. Or well sexy. She wore a lot of very intricate latex and leather bodysuits but she didn’t want to be touched. Just looked at. Ruby. She was a sadist but usually only took on certain kinds of subs, preferring to walk around a drink and watch. Or be watched. Cas liked her enough . 

“I told him I wouldn’t drink. It’s our anniversary, it’s midnight so it’s really officially our anniversary. We’re going on a trip in the morning.” Castiel said but got up anyway, slipping into the fuzzy slides he wore when he left the plush carpeted area of the platform. 

“Where are you going? Nude beach? Hookah den? Orgy?” Ruby asked, smile growing wider and wider the more she suggested. Castiel just shook his head, they already went to two of those things. Those weren’t special for anniversary trips. 

“The aquarium and then a world famous pie shop. And then we booked a room at a super luxurious hotel for the night. I’m so excited!” Cas said happily as they made their way down the spiral stairs. Castiel couldn’t help but smile. They planned the trip for months. The aquarium was one of the few spots Castiel felt completely calm. He liked the fish, the bubbles, the lights. It was magical, as Dean would say. And the pie shop Dean was so excited for, his eyes would light up like a kid. Cas couldn’t help the dreamy look in his eyes or the smile on his lips. 

He could feel all the eyes on them. Cas just kept his eyes on the back of Ruby’s head, not wanting to give anyone any ideas. He just wanted Dean. So he kept his eyes on Ruby and her outfit of the night. 

Ruby was in a tight red teddy and nine inch heels. Her hair was all done up and her makeup was painted on. Cas thought it was pretty though he would never wear anything like that. 

“My beautiful girlfriend, my angel” Dean cooed as Cas walked up to the bar, tucking some hair behind his ear. Dean looked so good, wearing his frilly pair of pink satin panties under his black apron. Cas smiled as he sat down, suddenly very focused on the feeling of his own lacy underwear rubbing against his cock. He didn’t tell Dean about the blue gem ended plug he’d slipped into himself after they had both gotten ready. 

“You want a pink lemonade, you stunning bride?” Dean asked as he leaned against the bar, nose touching Cas’s. The white dress, Dean had lovingly named it Cas’s wedding dress. It and the matching cotton socks, panties, and scrunchie, which had been left behind. 

Cas smiled and nodded, bumping their foreheads together.

“Yes please, Miss Dean Novak.” Cas answered quietly and Dean laughed and looked at Ruby who nodded. She always got the same drink. Cas liked the idea of Dean taking his last name. But liked the idea of belonging to him even more. There would never be a Dean Novak or a Castiel Winchester but the idea always made Cas feel fluttery. 

“Thank you Deanie” Cas said as the cold strawberry lemonade slipped into his hand and a kiss was pressed to his lips. 

“Thanks honey, come meet me back up here after last call at one. I’m on key duty so it’ll be a while before we get home.” Dean explained and Cas nodded, being pulled back to the platform, straw caught between his painted lips. He waved at Dean as he stumbled behind Ruby, catching one last glimpse of Dean laughing. 

~~~~~

Castiel was humming as he leaned against the rope that held up his swing. He was curled up on it now, he’d gone and got his flowy robe, one with feathered edges to keep him warm. Dean turned on some slow music, something romantic. Cas was sleepy, one foot hanging down to gently rock himself. He was just nearly asleep, the day catching up to him, alcohol making him feel warm and heavy. 

He was drinking something blue and sweet, something with tart cherry flavor too. Cas liked it. It made him feel pretty for some reason. 

He could faintly hear the light noise of the bar getting cleaned. It was late. They had to leave by noon during the day. Cas couldn’t make himself worry, he’d had such a nice night, he was going home to his beloved partner, and he felt beautiful. 

But then it was all quiet and the music was off. Cas heard faint footsteps on the staircase, watching from under his eyelashes, straw still caught between his lips. 

“Hey gorgeous, time to head home. You wanna get dressed or just trench coat it?” Dean asked as he walked to Castiel, petting the dark long hair away from the dark haired man’s face, twirling in his freshly washed fingers.  Castiel just smiled at him and nodded. 

Sometimes they had nights where it was too much work to get undressed and redressed, so Cas would just slip some sweatpants over everything and throw his long tan coat on and slip into Dean’s car in the dark. Dean understood, pressing a powder soft kiss to his lover’s forehead. 

Dean pulled Castiel to his feet, hugging him for a moment before rubbing up and down his arms, catching and squeezing his hands. 

“I would like my boots and my coat please.” Cas said plainly and followed Dean down the stairs and toward the dressing rooms. Dean pulled out their shared locker keys and sat Cas down on the bench in the middle of the dressing area.  

He pulled out Cas’s coat and his loose laced boots, handing them over before pulling out his own sweatpants and black hoodie. 

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off you Cas. You looked so nice. You know that’s my favorite dress.” Dean complimented as they both got dressed or covered up. Cas smiled as he pulled on his shoes, looking up at Dean lovingly. 

“I wore it for you.” He said and watched Dean shrug on his hoodie. 

“Well thank you. I can’t wait to get home and take it off you. And go to bed naked.” Dean answered and leaned down to kiss Cas, who smiled and rose to his feet. They stood there in the dim dressing room sharing soft kisses for a moment, happy to be content in the moment. 

“We should take a shower before bed, you smell like sours and bar cleaner.” Cas said and Dean huffed a laugh and grabbed their bags in one hand and his keys in the other. 

“Such a dirty mouth, I didn’t know such pretty things could say something so filthy” Dean said sarcastically as he pulled Cas out toward the impala. 

~~~~~

“Today’s been the best day of my life.” Castiel said as he laid breathless on his back on the biggest most comfortable bed he’s ever laid on. Dean was laid on his side beside him, hand tracing nonsense on the soft flesh of Castiel's pec. Going around all the hickies and bite marks. 

They had just had the best date ever. They slept in till ten, Dean made breakfast (and got a blowjob), the lines at the aquarium were short, Cas laughed at sea slugs, Dean cried over pie, and the hotel room was romantic and huge. It had a view which Cas was enjoying in his robe when Dean had got done in the shower. The sex was great, Cas thought. Dean put on music, made sure to bring Cas’s favorite condoms, and they came together. It was the best regular vanilla sex they’d ever had. Probably. Cas didn’t wanna try and rank all the sex they ever had. It was too much for his orgasm blissed brain. 

And maybe he doesn't hear Dean quite right when he speaks. 

“We should get married.” Dean said conversationally. Cas blinked a few times before facing his partner. “What?” He was sure he didn’t quite hear that right. Dean looked at him, eyes steady, hand stilling where it laid over Castiel’s heart. 

“We should get married. We could get a new place, get a dog, see where life leads us.” Dean said quietly, green eyes full of sincerity. Cas felt like his very heart was being grabbed. Dean Winchester already owned his heart and soul but… Cas was never really sure if he owned Dean’s. 

“Do you mean that? You want to be married… to me?” Castiel asked, looking at his own chest where Dean’s hand laid against his bare skin. Dean smiled and rubbed up and down with his thumb. 

“I would love to be married to you. Double deal too, handsome brilliant husband, sexy little wife.” Dean jokes, trying to lighten the mood. Cas looked at him, eyebrows raised, unsure but intrigued. One of Dean’s favorite looks, one that had the dirty blonde leaning in close to wrap his arm around Cas’s middle. 

“We could get a cabin somewhere, away from everything.” Dean said it quietly into the skin of Cas’s shoulder, like it was a secret. He moved to kiss under the stubbly jaw and whisper another promise into Cas’s pale skin. 

“Could hide away from all the eyes, be who we are together. Husbands, wives, doesn’t matter if we’re together.” Dean said it like a prayer, right into Cas’s ear. 

“Dean…” The other man said like a warning, like he had to make sure Dean was sure. Dean just sat up on his elbow, hand coming up to cradle Cas’s jaw, staring right into his blue eyes. 

“I mean to Cas. I love you. I want to spend my entire life with you, I never want to be away from you. I want everyone to know that you’re mine, and I’m yours. I want us to be us. Forever.” Dean spoke with his entire heart, Cas could feel it. As he spoke Dean reached down and pulled Cas’s hand into his own, squeezing it, just to get his point across. 

Cas teared up, he was never very good at having feelings. Never very good at reminding Dean that he loved him, never very good at letting his love be known, never very good at being a good boyfriend. But here his love was, saying the words Cas had only ever dreamed of. 

“Please just say yes, I can hear your brain.” Dean said with a smile. Cas sniffled as he realized just how hard he was already crying. 

“Please marry me, Dean Winchester.” Cas said through sobs as he was pulled up into a hug. He couldn’t help how hard he cried, it was… it was everything he ever wanted. It was dreams coming true. 

“Took you long enough Cas.” Dean said and held onto his fiance . Cas just cried and held onto Dean as tightly as he could. 

~~~~~

“You’re not being a Novak.” Cas said plainly as he walked into the kitchen, eyes stuck on the fridge just to the right of Dean’s half naked body. Dean smiled and turned around, pan of scrambled eggs and spatula in hand to dump them onto the awaiting plate. 

“No?” Dean asked and Cas sat down, staring at the countertop. He shook his head, eyebrows scrunched together. 

“No. I’m going to be a Winchester. I think that's the better choice. I don’t want to be married to Dean Novak. I’ll be… I’ll be Castiel Winchester.” Castiel said and finally looked up at Dean, nodding with his mind firmly made up. 

“Dirty talk at breakfast, I like this version of you Cassie.” Dean said and brought over two steaming cups of coffee before sitting beside Cas on the barstools. Cas took one and took a big drink. It was just how he liked it. Mostly milk and sugar. He leaned his face into Dean’s naked shoulder. 

“Miss Winchester, is your husband home? I don’t think he’d like to see you hanging off someone like me.” Dean said in a fake deep voice. Cas giggled, that was something Dean did, he had learned. He pretended that he wasn’t Dean, it was a joke, and Cas liked it. Because Dean was Dean whether or not he liked it. 

“You’re my husband, Miss Winchester.” Castiel mumbled into the tan skin of Dean’s arm before leaning up to kiss his cheek. 

“Damn right I am.” Dean said and kissed Cas for a long moment before dishing out their breakfasts. 

~~~~~

“It’s perfect. It’s the best place ever on earth.” Castiel said through teary eyes as he stood on the porch of the house Dean had found for them. It was in budget, small, but private. It overlooked a valley, was surrounded by trees, and the closest neighbors were a mile away. They were the end of the road so no one would drive past them, it had a garage for baby, and it had space enough for Dean’s woodworking and carpentry tools. It was perfect.

“I knew you’d love it. Our own little castle on the mountain, huh.” Dean said and hugged his husband. It was the best place. There was enough space for them, a dog, a garden, and they could fuck outside. Best place they’d found. 

“Let’s go for it.” Cas said and nodded. He could see himself growing old here. And maybe fucking Dean over the porch railing. But that could come later. 

~~~~~

“The beard works on you. The greys really make you look handsome. Believe me.” Cas said as he sat down next to Dean on their couch. Miracle huffed in his dog bed and Cas rolled his eyes at the dog. Dramaqueen. 

Dean smiled and leaned over to kiss his wife. Castiel liked Wife. He fell into his more feminine side as he aged. He was 56 now and all they did all day was work around the cabin and have sex and watch movies. He could be a man and be a wife if he chose that. 

Plus if anyone came to their house, they knew to either call ahead or get what you get. The Winchester Cabin was a wild place. Just ask Sam, he once wanted to ‘surprise’ Dean and drove up on Cas getting railed against the hood of Baby in a sundress and floppy hat. 

“You like the beard because now you’re not the only one getting greys.” Dean sassed back. It was no secret he loved it when Cas started getting grey hair first, or at all. Dean liked so see Cas being beautiful and grey haired Cas was fucking stunning. 

“I can’t believe I met you because I was horny.” Cas said flatly, which made Dean crack up laughing. 

“I can’t believe I met you because I was called in to cover the other bartender.” Dean said with a smile. They shared a few more kisses. It was perfect. Exactly how Cas dreamed. It was so perfect, how it happened or what came next or what would happen if Dean got hurt or what if something horrible happened or-

“I’m gonna hyperventilate.” Cas said before Dean was hugging him, taking in slow breaths. 

“You’re so weird. I love you.” Dean said as Cas hugged him back and slowly breathed in rhythm with him. 

“I love you too.” Cas said before crawling into Dean’s lap. It was where he belonged. 

<- Previous Chapter

[a-flickering-soul]

How I Stopped Worrying And Learned To Love Bones: The Harrow Cosplay

Or: I felt like doing a little writeup of the making of my Harrowhark Nonagesimus cosplay because I worked hard on it and this is also basically the first cosplay I actually completed. And I'm also just very proud of it.

I knew from the start I wanted the silhouette to essentially be a triangle, since I deeply believe that Harrow in full vestments is like a little walking cone. This is also deeply influenced by the many years I spent in church choir wearing those dinky little robes.

The first thing I figured out was the headpiece. I knew I wanted the hair to be covered (both in a religious way and also so I wouldn't have to wear a wig), but when it comes to hair coverings, there's a lot of ways it could go. I initially considered mantillas, to go with the whole Catholicism of it all, but unfortunately I was possessed with the spirit of half my ancestors and decided to drape a scarf like a dupatta (I considered making maang tikka to go with it, but had a hard time with the logistics of that). I found a drapy, thin black scarf at a thrift store and held onto it for a while. You can tell from the picture that it's pretty sheer and also a good length.

I szuszed it up by hand-stitching some white lace to it (since I'm very taken with the idea of the Ninth producing lace like all good nunneries did), as well as some seashell beads in a suitable bonelike color and these very cool tiny silver skull beads. These are only on the front of my scarf as a nice little decoration.

For the rest of the jewelry, Sculpey really came through. I used it to make some (outsized) teeth to create a rosary, along with some very cool volcanic rock beads. Individually knotting each bead and tooth was a huge time sink, but definitely worth it visually. Nine teeth for each of the houses.

I also made some bone bangles out of Sculpey (although this was towards the end of things when I was kind of losing steam).

My metamour @benthicbimbo was fucking amazing though and literally?? made thee most beautiful phalanges choker out of Sculpey and velvet ribbon and they're weathered and textured so beautifully and it's such a wonderful piece I genuinely wear it around places quite often.

And because they're incredible they also made these beautiful faux earrings for me that I tragically forgot to wear during Halloween but do look genuinely stunning!!! Like what!!!!!

For the big layers, I genuinely got the best luck at Goodwill in one fell swoop and I have no idea how I got this lucky. The dress is Shein (and once you touch it that fact is very obvious) and the overcoat is a CQ by CQ trench coat someone didn't want anymore (sans belt). These combined with the dupatta really solidified the silhouette and both the pattern of the dress and the brocade on the overcoat really were exactly what I was looking for and it was a sheer stroke of luck that I found both of them in one go.

And now, the big boy: the ribcage corset. I wrestled with this thing for what felt like ages and I'm decently pleased with it, but I definitely have plans for improvement. I started off with a wire frame just to see what kind of shape I wanted-- I took inspiration from the book cover, but slutted it up a little with the titty cups because I felt like having fun. This was made with floral wire and duct tape.

Once I had it to a point where it was reasonably symmetric and fit to my body, I added a very thin layer of quilt batting. The goal of this step was to add bulk without weight or necessarily a gajillion layers of plaster or paper mache. As a friend of mine described it, it looked like low-poly gore.

From here, I added two layers of paper mache since I really wanted it to be rigid-- I did not want this to flex with me as I moved or really flex at all. I wanted to really sell that this was made of bone.

It was at this point I realized I fucked up enormously because the bottom was very asymmetric and I never did a final fit to myself, but it turned out okay anyways, especially combined with the overcoat. I slapped a few layers of acrylic paint over it and used a black ribbon to just tie it around my back-- it was going to be covered by the overcoat anyways so I didn't think too hard about that part.

And that's pretty much it! The black leather gloves are my usual winter gear, and the shoes are my everyday officewear black heels. The face paint design was a mix of the book cover, some fanart I'd seen, and some mockups a friend of mine made for me.

Overall, I had a ton of fun putting together what I feel like is my first con-worthy cosplay, and it was a massive upgrade from last year's cosplay. I'm not 100% satisfied with the ribcage-- I believe I can do better-- but this method was pretty solid (I'd recommend overestimating spaces between ribs though when making the frame). The face paint also wasn't my best work-- thick cream paint is a huge bitch to work with and I didn't have any brushes, but it got the point across. Either way, this cosplay was enormously fun to put together, actually quite comfortable to wear and move around in, and very satisfying to look at. As a reward or perhaps punishment for reading this far, a mandatory couples' cosplay with my beloathed Gideon (my dear @laserlesbians). Happy belated boneday!

[anataliex]

So, I decided to post a snippet I wrote not too long ago... Enjoy Nicole's and Finnick's first meeting.

The bustling streets of the Capitol. Oh, how Finnick despised them. Everything about them reminded him of the almost neussating excess this city pushed in your face anywhere you went. The high buildings, flashing lights and loud music coming from every other corner, they all seemed to scream in his face about the wealth that the Capitol could despose. About the money the districts didn't have. It was infuriating, really, how the people here paraded in their silly, costume-like clothes, when most other citizens of Panem couldn't even afford good food. What was worse though, was that he had to fit in here, that he also had to wear their strange clothing. By the president's request, he'll always be bound to this place, no matter how many bloodbaths he'll survive. As long as he is desirable, he'll be chained to the deal he had to make.

Because of that, sitting in this ridiculously long car with his escort, Aurelia, was a must. She insisted on getting him a new stylist, after the last one went into a state of depression, when he declined being only her lover. The people here seem all the same. All of them with the same shallow mentalities and questionable morality. He didn't really care about the change of stylist, he thought the new one will probably be as annoying as the last one. They all were. Finnick couldn't help but wonder in what color variation will they come in this time. Hot pink or maybe bright yellow this time? Either way, if the main one won't be a complete atrocity, he was sure their team will make up for it.

"We're here" his escort announced in that high pitched, sing song, overexcited voice of hers and the vehicle came to a stop, tearing him away from his thoughts. He turned his head to look out the other window, expecting to see grand exhibitions of clothes behind a glass, showcasing the latest trends of the season. However, to his surprise, he was only met with a brown set of doors set in a light colored wall, above which hanged a black and white signboard, signifying the building was a studio.

Aurelia came out before him when the chauffeur opened the door for them, her high heels clattering on the concrete beneath them. He often thought about how there's almost no grass in the Capitol, not many trees either, but he never heard any of the citizens complain about that.

"I know it's not what you would normally expect, but I promise she's good. Many victors form her clientele." She chirped in and Finnick could only hope she was right. Changing his stylist for the third time this year while meaningless to him, was additional trouble nonetheless.

"If so many victors come here, she must be terrific" He commented mustering out his trained, suave voice. They stood in front of the entrance to the studio after Aurelia rang the bell. They didn't wait much, but during that time she already fixed her wig four times.

Before she could get on with the fourth time, the lock in the door clicked and the silver, decorated with flower markings door knob twisted, opening one of the sides of the entree.

Behind it stood a normal looking woman, which was surprising in this city. There didn't seem to be any alterations to her, besides her blonde bangs that stood out when compared with the rest of her dark hair. However, other than that, there didn't seem to be anything. Her nose even had a small bump, which was so uncommon here given the normalization of plastic surgeries.

"Hello" She greeted them both with a bright and genuine smile. "Aurelia Jasper and Finnick Odair, I trust?"

"Yes, we scheduled an appointment for exactly..." Aurelia looked at her wrist watch "Nine o' clock"

"That'd be correct. Come in, please" she invited them both in, to which his escort almost flinched, her face showing something akin to disgust. Quickly, trying to recover, she put on a toothy grin and chuckled. It was so obviously fake, the girl standing behind the door would have to be unbelievably stupid not to catch on.

"Ah, no no. I unfortunately have other matters to attend to. Finnick, you go and the chauffeur will drive by later. Too-da-loo" It was very amusing watching her almost skip back to the car. It made him wonder what exactly is wrong with the woman he was left with.

She only clicked her tongue, looking in the direction his escort went off to and then turned her attention back to him. With a gesture of her hand into the building, she invited him in again "Come inside".

"With pleasure" Finnick mused and put on a smirk of his own. When he stepped inside, she took the lead and he followed her further into the building.

It wasn't big, medium sized at most, though there seemed to be enough space for everything. As he looked around, he noticed the many shelves of multicolored fabrics, that  varied between different textures. Mannequins were standing along one of the walls, some of them had started projects put on, while the others were completely empty. In one of the corners stood a long hanger, with already finished suits, dresses and other pieces of clothing. The room also had a desk, with sketches sprawled all over it, and a dressing room, where he guessed her clients undressed. One of his stylist had that, but the others didn't bother to seclude a space like that.

When they found themselves in the middle of the room, right next to two burgundy sofas and a table, she came to a stop and turned to him. "Right, so let me introduce myself" she smiled again "My name is Nicole Keegan, it's a pleasure to meet you". Her hand extended to him.

"Finnick Odair, as we already established" He took her hand and brought it to his lips, before placing a light kiss and letting it go. "The pleasure's all mine"

"Take a seat, please" With a gesture to one of the seats, she went to her desk, assembling some of the scrambled papers. It was then he noticed that she didn't even dress like a Capitolite, as she had an off-pink cardigan on, pairing with black pants. Those were clothes you could probably even see in district 3. "Would you like some tea or water?"

"I'm more of a wine person, sweetheart, so if you have some of that, I won't turn it down" He sat loosely on the place she gestured to and continued looking at her, before she turned back to him.

"I don't have any wine here, unfortunately for you" Nicole leaned on her desk and reciprocated his gaze "Anyway, you have probably already noticed, there won't be a team helping me." In fact, he did notice that there was no one in the studio besides them. However he thought that it was just a matter of time and soon a couple of clown looking assistants would jump out from around the corner.

"No team? How come?" In response, he received a shrug from his new stylist, who went to pour herself some water. 

"I suppose I never needed one. Though Once, I did work with a team. It was assigned to me at one of my first events. All of that hustle and bustle that followed them..." she shook her head, however a small chuckle left her. "No, I definitely wouldn't be able to put up with that on a daily basis."

"So, not a fan of bigger company?" He asked, slightly amused, even though his expression remained tinted with the hint of mockery, that seemed to always be in it. She thought for a second, looking at the ceiling, while sipping her water. 

"Depends on what company we're talking about. Some groups are nice. Few and far between, but some are nice" She placed her glass down and smiled at him again. "Should we get back to business, since you don't want anything to drink? We'll start with measurements, and then I'll show you some ideas I already have in mind for what you could wear." Now that was a surprise, no stylist ever before had given him options of what he could wear. Usually, he was just given the most provocative piece of clothing known to mankind and his stylist expected him to wear it, no buts. Here, it at least seemed like he'll be given the option to have an opinion. 

"Sounds great. Let's get on with it then" 

"Alright, the changing room is over there" She gestured to the small room, which purpose he  correctly assumed before. 

"And here I thought I'd have to give you a show." he mused. "Be right back" the victor then headed towards the door to the changing room. It was nothing special. Clean, with a mirror on the right wall and two hangers on the opposite side. Once he took off his shirt, he took a moment to look at his reflection, in which he saw his chest and shoulders tainted with hickeys, bite marks and bruises. He could only guess his back didn't look better, since when he accidentally touched his shoulder blade while taking off his shirt, it hurt a bit. Finnick couldn't help but think of how he'll definitely look colorful in a day or so. He took one last, look at the marks and got out of the changing room, deciding that his stylist probably won't care anyway, so there's no reason to hide them anyway. When he stepped back into the main room,  she was humming something quietly, while looking through the colorful rolls and picking some of them out. 

"Done" He signalized to her, not particularly sure if she was aware he was standing there.

"Mhm, good. Let me just grab the measuring tape" Nicole opened one of the many cupboards and took it out, before turning to him. Her eyes widened just slightly, but enough for her client to notice.

"What? Enjoying the view?" Finnick asked with his upkept smug tone of voice.

"You're all bruised" The concern was evident in her eyes, voice and even the light furrow of her brows.

"Ah, these? Don't you worry about them, Miss Keegan. They're just keepsakes from my lovers" He assured in a playful tone of voice.

"Keepsakes?" The stylist asked genuinely surprised. "Those look far too big for that"

"Some of them like to play rough, you know. Adds to the pleasure" That was a lie on his part. He didn't feel pleasure from them at all, but it's not like he was just going to vent to this girl. 

"Right..." She was still unconvinced "If you think that way, then that's totally fine. However, if you'd let me, I'd like to treat them. They're in places I'll be touching a lot during the measurement and I'd rather not cause you any pain by accident."

"You want to treat them?" He raised a brow, before plopping on the couch with a sidelooped smile. It disarmed him for a moment, though. Her kindness wasn't common in the Capitol. "Knock yourself out then, Nicole."

Even though she had mixed feelings about that particular response, she was glad that Finnick allowed her to take care of the marks. Nicole made her way to another cupboard, which was stacked with medicine. After skimming through the creams in variously sized containers, she took out one of the smaller ones with a light blue lid and walked over to the sofa, to sit next to him. Unscrewing the lid, she ran her eyes over the bruises, before dabbing her fingers in the white cream. It smelled nice, a bit like chamomile mixed with mint and something else that he couldn't quite place.

"This should ease the soreness of the bruise." His stylist explained to Finnick and then gently applied the ointment to the first patch of bruises. "Sorry, if it stings a bit at first" her touch was almost feather light, moving with a sense of tenderness that he haven't felt from anyone in a very long time.  It was the first time ever, that he felt like he was treated humanly by a Capitol citizen. He had to admit, it was a nice change of pace, to finally catch a break from being seen as a toy, a mere object to toss around and ruin. Finnick had to assume that's why she was popular with the Victors. 

Soon, she moved to his back, working delicately, but swiftly. The medicine she put was cooling, but it came with a feeling that he could only compare to the one when sparkling water first touches your tongue. After a minute of slight tingling, his bruises didn't hurt anymore when touched, unless pressed on very hardly.

"Finished. So, are you alright?" She asked him, screwing the lid back on.

"Feeling great. Where did you get that stuff? I might have to get some for myself" He rubbed his shoulder, now that it didn't hurt.

"Here, you can take it. If those are your souvenirs, you might need it more than me" She passed him the cream, offering him a gentle and sweet smile.

"Thanks, sweetheart" Finnick responded with a slightly more genuine than the previous ones smile and took it. "Now back to work, yeah?"

______________________

To whoever's reading this, I hope it was as enjoyable to read, as it was to write <3

[imsososolesbian]

The best trio in the world

Transmasc!VanNat and fem!reader

Part two of: The Break

Platonic

No warnings

Summary: The three of you go to a party

Word Count: 1870

Nat was at your stove, as Van was at your kitchen island. There was chatter from both as they bantered back and forth and you sat at the island reading a book, you three did this a lot now that you guys had made up. 

Nat was making tamales as Van was putting the finishing touches on your costumes. The three of you were going to a party that night, and had decided to meet up at your place for some food before going to the party together. It also worked out that one of you had finally managed to scrape together enough money to buy a car, or in Van’s case a truck; which was now sitting outside in your driveway. 

Van put down his paintbrush and looked over to you, “You still have that shitty cheap hair dryer right? The one with paint all over it?” Van had gotten out of his seat and walked around the island to stand behind you and rest his chin on your shoulder, taking a peak at what was written in the book. 

You nod your head slightly, too engrossed in your book to even put it down or look away for a second. “In my room, where it always is,” you mumbled out, and flipped your page. You feel Van’s lips on your cheek before he is running off in the direction of your room to get the dryer. 

Nat was mixing masa up on the counter next to the stove as he soaked corn husks. You finally put your bookmark in and set your book down before leaning back in your chair stretching. “How much longer Nat? I’m hungry,” you complain.

“They’ll be done when they are done,” Nat said, turning his head to look at you. “Patience is a virtue, you know right?”

You roll your eyes at Nat, and are about to stand up to go help Van find the hair dryer as he runs back into the kitchen holding it in his hand. He quickly plugs it in and trunks it on pointing it at the not yet dry paint. 

Two hours later, the three of you had eaten and now were splitting up in your house to get changed into your costumes. You knew the three of you were going as Batman, Wonder Woman and Superman. You were under the impression that Nat would be Batman and Van would be Superman but you were wrong.

From your bag you pulled out a blue suit and red cape. You unfolded the suit, a big red and yellow triangle with an S in the middle was what you were met with. You were surprised that you would be dressing as Superman. Yet you still got into the outfit, and put your wig on, before checking your bag because you knew there was still stuff in there and pulling out jeans, a button up and a pair of glasses with no lenses. You had a good feeling on where this night was going. 

You were sitting on your couch, dressed as Clark Kent when Nat came out in a black suit, a little bat emblem on his lapel, and a batman helmet under his arm, he also had a wig on, a little grey was mixed into the black of the wig unlike yours. “Van’s being Diana?” 

“Yeah. Said he thought it would be hilarious. He said he’s going all out. Wig, makeup the whole nine yards,” Nat says, putting his helmet on the coffee table and sitting down next to you.

Nat leans his head back on your shoulder and lets out a sigh, “He’s going to take foreverrrrr,” Nat drags out. You laugh and wrap your arm around his shoulder, and pats his shoulder.

The two of you sit on the couch side by side for an hour before Van struts out of the bathroom. He was wearing a floor length dress, the top was red and the bottom was blue with stars, he had drag like makeup on his face and a black long wig on. On his left hip was held a gold rope, and in his left hand he had a sword, “Nat, your batarangs should be in the left pocket in your pants,” he said, putting his sword away in a sheath that was attached to his back. 

The three of you put your shoes on a few minutes later and were out of the door in no time. Van was driving the three of you tonight, and you had been chosen to sit in the middle of the truck because there were no back seats. 

As Van drove you noticed that he even had replicas of the Bracelets of Submission on his wrists. You found it amazing how in depth Van had gone with these costumes. You knew he loved films and comics but you didn’t know he would take such care. You knew you should have seen it coming but you didn’t thinking making costumes was really Van’s thing but he proved you totally wrong with what he had made. 

Usually parties would be held out in the forest but tonight it was Jackie’s place. It was also just the soccer team, plus you, Misty and Taissa’s girlfriend Simone. The three of you were only allowed to come because you were dating people on the team and no other reason other than that. So you knew it was going to be a fun night. 

Van pulled up in front of Jackie’s house and parked the truck. “Alright, out let’s go,” he pulled his key out and opened his door, making sure to grab his sword from you when you shuffled out the driver side because Nat was taking too long to get out. 

You walked up with the two to Jackie’s door and waited for it to open. There wasn’t loud music coming from the house. Even when the door opened you couldn’t hear anything. That was till Jackie led you through her house and out into her backyard, where the rest of the YellowJackets were. They were sat around her fire pit and surprisingly no one was drinking. 

You spotted Misty sitting beside Crystal, Misty painted green with a black pointy hat on, and a pin straight black wig on, while Crystal had a blonde wig on and was wearing a pink dress. You could tell the two were dressed like the main characters from Wicked (after you had become friends with Van and Nat again, you started going to practice and games where you started talking to Misty, when she wasn’t busy, waiting for them to be over, and now knew more about musicals then you ever had before). Shauna was sitting on a camping chair with a can of ginger ale in her hands as she waited for Jackie to come back. Shauna was decked out in a blue blazer, a white button down and some blue jeans, you couldn’t place your finger on who she was until you looked at Jackie who was in a red blazer and a white button up, and instead of jeans she wore a red skirt, they were dressed as Veronica Sawyer and Heather Chandler. 

Van and Nat sat down and you joined them, Van waved to Taissa a huge smile on his face, and Taissa laughed before waving back. You had learned that Van and Taissa made up and Van explained more into what his gender was and you could tell that Taissa still had the hots for him and it was possible that Simone also did because she had a smirk on her face as she waved at him. The two girls were dressed as Tiana and Prince Naveen or should you say Princess Naveen because they both were wearing stunning dresses.

You once again look around, seeing Mari and Akilah sitting in the grass dressed as Edward and Bella from Twilight, and Gen and Melissa sitting next to them as Spider Man and Gwen. You kept over hearing the words “hold on tight spider monkey” every so often from the four of them. The four of them would join the main conversation after a race was conducted to see who could run the fastest with their date on their back.

Laura Lee and Lottie came late with pizza, ten boxes of it at that. The two were dressed up as Princess Bubblegum and Marceline. Lottie brought boxes from her car, while Laura Lee came in with a few cases of pop, and even some juice boxes. 

When the food and drinks were finally on the table you got up and got the three of you food. Nat got a meat lover's slice and a vegetarian one, Van got three slices of hawaiian pizza, you made sure to get ones with loads of pineapples. You grabbed a few slices of your favourtie type, along with a pop of your choosing, and Nat got a 7up and Van a root beer. 

The rest of the night was the group sitting around eating and drinking, playing games and goofing off like you were all young again. At one point you had all moved downstairs in the house, which had a huge tv and Jackie had thought beforehand to sit out things for a makeshift bed, for all of you to crash on, along with some clothes too, which would be more comfortable for sleeping in. 

Yet that didn’t stop you, Van and Nat, along with Melissa all leaning into your costumes and acting out little battles rather than turning on the tv and watching a movie. You ended up in just the superman suit, Nat was down to just his suit pants and his Batman suit, and Van had rolled up his skirt and taken out his sword and kept a hand on his lasso. Melissa had put her Spiderman hood up. 

The four of you went back and forth ‘landing’ hits on each other to the point of one winner. Yet when there was one winner you four would start back up again. It took hours for you four to stop but the others kept cheering you on as well as the others. 

You thankfully were able to remember to change before going to sleep, your costume wasn’t really the most comfortable to sleep in. The next morning was even more intense and insane. You woke up laying in a corner curled up, and when you sat up you saw Nat in the middle of Lottie and Laura Lee. Laura Lee was pretty much laying fully on top of him, Lottie had an arm around the two as they slept. 

On the other side of the room, Van was sleeping behind Simone, an arm around her waist and his hand intertwined with Taissas, like the three didn’t have a care in the world for anything other than the three of them. 

Pancakes, french toast, eggs and waffles are what you guys all ate for breakfast that morning when you all officially woke up. After that you, Simone and Misty watched all the others play soccer in Jackie’s backyard, after you all had helped clean up from the party the night before.